Wow, that's different!
by JustaBitBored
Summary: Was a one shot but has progressed into a longer story :D MMHG mother/daughter fic. Focusing on Hermione and McGonagall but includes all the characters we love. Everyone is going to be pushed out of their comfort zone when tragedy strikes, but not necessarily at Hogwarts. Read, enjoy and please review.
1. Crazy Cats

**Hi all! This is a one shot I wrote yesterday when I was bored. Let me know what you think. **

**ImNotJK :(**

The small, blonde haired girl sat on the lawn. Her front garden overlooked the park, and she watched longingly as all the other children played football in the afternoon sun. With a despondent sigh, she skimmed her chubby fingers along the purple cast that now resided on her left leg. After a second glance towards the park, the girl's attention returned to an old and battered copy of 'The Wind in the Willows'. Before too long all unhappy thoughts had dissipated, and her young mind was enveloped in the world laid before her by the wonders of the book. The tiniest of chuckles escaped her lips as she pondered what her mother would do if she stole a motor car.

The light was beginning to wane as the bright orange sun moved lazily behind the tree line; a sign that very soon her mother would call her in from the front the garden. Without looking, the girl reached for her yellow bookmark that lay on the grass beside her, and jumped when her hand hit something furry.

"Hello." She gave the small tabby cat a second to reply before continuing. "I'm very sorry, I didn't see you there. I was reading."

The cat remained perfectly still, its bright green eyes shining. A long moment passed before it blinked and looked away. She reached out her hand and stroked the smooth grey fur of the tabby cat, its brilliant eyes closing as it leaned its head into her touch.

"You look as though you have glasses on." She chuckled staring at the markings around its eyes. " You are a very handsome cat." The cat's head snapped around and looked at her again. She had never seen a cat raise its eyebrow before - nor knew that they even could - but this cat definitely did.

Backtracking, she quickly continued. "Unless you are a girl cat, then of course you are very pretty." Happy with that addition to the sentence, the cat looked over to the park and watched as the other children played.

"You see that cat there." Following the girls finger, the Tabby stared over to where a huge white cat with tortoise shell patches lay upon the bonnet of an old muggle car. "That is Mr Anderson's cat. Be careful because he is very mean. Last year I got a kitten for my sixth birthday and we had to give him to Mum's friend, Sarah, because he kept getting hurt." she stared angrily at the filthy feline for a few more moments. Mud covered his paws and the white fur of his underbelly was almost black with dirt.

A voice rang out from inside the house. "Darling, dinner's ready."

"Coming Mum." Stuffing the bookmark into her book she reached for her crutches. "Like I said, be careful. I like you very much. Goodbye..." the girl paused and the cat waited. She pulled a disappointed face, ashamed at not being able to think of a suitable name for the cat in the allotted time. "I don't want to give you the wrong name, so I will have to think about it for a while. For now can I just call you Tabby?" The cat stared. "See you later, Tabby." A loud heave and the girl was up and heading for the house. At the doorway she looked back but the striking tabby cat with the intelligent green eyes had vanished. "Tufty!" she shouted towards the huge cat sprawled across the bonnet. "Don't you think about hurting my new friend or I'm going to sellotape your feet to Harrison's skateboard and watch you roll away! Alright?" at the lack of response she closed the door behind her. McGonagall smiled.

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><p>Minerva McGonagall's eyes woke to darkness. Springing to her paws she realised that she had fallen asleep. Stretching her tired muscles out along the bricks her mind imagined Albus's face if he had found out she had been sleeping while she should have been keeping guard.<em> 'Well, maybe if I didn't have to do everyone's job for them AND do late detentions I wouldn't be so tired'<em> Hopping from the wall she trotted silently to the old garage that she should have been watching. Once sure that it was secure, Minerva sat wearily in front of it, only to see the cat that a young girl had warned her about earlier. As it approached Minerva sighed.

"I am not in the mood today, if you would kindly continue on your way there won't be any trouble." The cats head moved low to the ground obviously sizing up his opponent. His top lip curled back exposing his large fangs as he spat.

'Who d'ya think you're talking to like that? This is my turf and if you think your gonna tell me what to do, you've got another thing coming."

A loud 'MEOW' woke the child from her slumber. Running to the window she looked out to see if it had come from one of the usual neighbourhood cats or her new friend. A loud gasp erupted from her small body as she saw Tufty cornering her Tabby into the alcove next to Mrs Wilson's garage.

"How brave." She whispered as her new friend stood unmoving, staring straight into the face of advancing enemy. What she saw next she would see again, in every dream that she had for the next six months. He mouth dropped open as her tabby cat turned into a woman wearing a long emerald cloak and a pointed witch's hat. Before Tufty even knew what was happening the woman had kicked him, hard. The witch scowled after him for a moment - the ball of bedraggled fur ran off screeching into the night - before turning back into a tabby cat. Eyes like saucers, mouth agape, all that the young, blonde haired muggle could say was

"Wow… that's different!".

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><p>"Hermione!" Hermione Granger dabbed her paintbrush on some tissue before placing it back into its case. Taking a step back she looked at her painting and nodded in approval; her Nan would like it. With a short sigh she grabbed her book and descended the stairs.<p>

"Yes Mum?" Turning into the sitting room she looked up to see her mother standing by the sofa with a woman. Though she was wearing very peculiar clothes, Hermione's eyes were drawn straight to the woman's face. The girl marvelled at how the woman's eyes were exactly the same, although from what stood before her, she couldn't help but think her memory didn't do this lady any justice.

"Darling this is..." she couldn't continue as she was interrupted.

"YOU!" Hermione shouted, pointing her finger. The tall woman's eyebrow arched at the rudeness exhibited, but Hermione still let out a small giggle as she compared that image to that of the eye-brow-raising cat from four years prior. "Mum, that is the cat!"

"Hermione, pointing is rude!" Suddenly remembering herself, she calmed down a little. She lowered her head, slightly ashamed at what the woman must think of her.

"Sorry, it's just... I knew I would see you again, but then we moved so I thought… I can't believe this… you are the cat! Mum, I told you she was real." By now the tall woman's face was the picture of confusion, but Hermione's mother had obviously cottoned on as she gave quiet.

"Ooooooh, I see."

"And you didn't believe me." Hermione shook her head at her mother, to which Jean couldn't help but smile.

"Well darling, you must admit it is slightly hard to believe that you woke up in the middle of the night to see a cat turn into a woman, kick another cat and then turn back again."

Sudden realisation hit the stranger's face. Crossing her arms in front of her she simply said "Your hair has darkened hasn't it." Hermione let out a gigantic grin before stepping forward with her hand outstretched.

"Hermione Granger" The older woman took her hand lightly shaking it before replying.

"Professor McGonagall."

Hermione took a step back. "Professor?"

For the half an hour they had talked of Hogwarts, Magic, and Necessities. There was a lot to fit into a short space of time, as the professor had explained she had other 'Muggles' to see before the day was out. After Hermione and her mum had finished marvelling at the world that had suddenly been opened up, Professor McGonagall stood.

"So, I will give you some time to think and will send an owl to retrieve your answer."

"What... Like a real one?" Hermione's eyes were full of wonder and it did Minerva's heart some good to see such a show of innocence. She couldn't help but express the smallest of smiles, as her nod sent waves of excitement into the child.

"Well, until next time." Jean spoke quietly, brain still processing. "Oh, One second." Jean went over to the bookshelf and pulled out one of the many folders. Opening it she pulled out a few drawings and handed them to the mysterious woman that had walked in out of the blue. "Take these."

McGonagall looked down at the four pieces of paper in her hand, each a drawing of her. There were three of her in cat form and one in human form, the likeness was uncanny. "I couldn't possibly." She said, hand already outstretched to return them. "They are very good Miss Granger, hard to believe you were only..." she thought for a moment "seven."

"No, please take them, she did hundreds of drawings of that cat." she pointed to the pieces of paper that showed a grey tabby with green eyes sitting on a wall. "Well, as you said, you must be on your way." After a long moment of reluctance, Minerva McGonagall shrunk the pieces of paper down and placed them in her pocket. There was a loud inhale from both muggles and it took a lot of willpower to keep the laugh in her belly where it was.

Striding quickly to the door, "Until we meet again. Goodbye Miss Granger, Mrs Granger."

"Professor." Hermione whispered shyly. Nodding once more the regal, elegant woman opened the door and let herself out. It clicked shut behind her. Both muggles stood silently for a moment before turning to each other. The volcanoes inside Hermione erupted.

"I'M SO EXCITED I THINK I'M GONNA DIE!" She screamed as she ran upstairs to her room.****  
><strong>**

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><p><strong>Tufty is a real cat... Mr Anderson... if your reading this then tell your cat to LEAVE MINE ALONE OR IM GONNA RUN IT OVER! that is all. (I wont really run it over.. i wont even kick it but i do feel better having stood up for my cats who are relentlessly bullied by that fat beast!)<br>Thanks for reading :D**


	2. Diagon Alley

**Hi there people :D**

**I only ever intended this to be a one-shot but since it got a few reviews (Very nice ones, thank you so much) and a load of Favourite story alert thingymabobs I am going to continue it. You see, as I sat in bed this morning a whole 35 Chapter story popped into my head. If that is the result of eating meringues before bed sign me up brother!**

**Ok, I'm going to get writing now and I will get through as many chapters as possible and I'm going to put them up every other day (This way I will have time to write the rest without having to keep you waiting) - this is me being hopeful by the way. I am really motivated by reviews so hint hint nudge nudge wink wink :D**

**Also, since this was a one-shot the title does not match the story anymore but I'm not going to change it because... I don't know, Im a bit different. So, from here on in the title of this story is unknown (if you can think of one give me a bell :D ) and the rating will be : K+. Genre is still: Family/Hurt/Comfort/Friendship (I don't actually remember what Genre it was written as since I have no internet on the upstairs computer but I'm guessing it was one or two of them)**

**Thank you to anyone that chooses to review (Because it is greatly appreciated) and since I will have written some chapters already you can always ask for them to be put up early. I do not have a beta reader so all miserable mistakes are my own. If anyone want to help write, or give ideas, have some coffee (I joke, I friggin hate coffee, makes my teeth hurt) PM me, or leave a review. For those who have favourited this story thinking it was a one-shot like I said first, im sorry if I ruin it for you. I guess you can just pretend I did nothing and not read on.**

**Hoping you are well,**

**Mathalda Hopkirk**

**I joke, that's not me...**

**JustaBitBored xxx**

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><p>Chapter 2 – Diagon Alley.<p>

Mrs Granger watched her daughter with a proud smile; Hermione was really reining in her excitement quite well. Apart from the occasional twitch, and obvious alertness, you wouldn't know she was ready to explode inside. Her eyes ventured from her book to the window. Hermione's books were not used to being neglected; she hadn't turned a page in half an hour and now it sat open on her lap, pining for her attention. Attention that was never to be granted as in that moment there was a loud pop from outside; a familiar pop that Hermione now knew to associate with magical people.

Identical brown eyes met, as both Muggle and Muggle-Born waited for a knock on the door. Hermione's breathing had become more erratic with her now clear exhilaration. Every second that the knocker didn't sound was almost painful as Hermione was coiled tighter before...

'Knock Knock'

she sprung. In her attempt to beat her mother to the door, Hermione fell forwards off the sofa and onto her hands and knees. Mrs Granger jumped over her daughter to get to the door first but almost fell when two small hands grasped her ankles and tugged her back. The woman continued to the door, ignoring the five extra stones of dead weight that were clinging to her heels and being dragged along the laminate flooring.

"Hello." Jean exclaimed as she opened the front door, only to see there was nobody there. Hermione however, could see the visitor at the door from the vantage point between her mother's feet. A tiny man stood in the porch way, wearing a little grey suit. He had a short, thick beard that was as ivory as his hair which hung loose around his shoulders. He wore a look of bemusement at the scene in front of him. _'Muggles.'_ He thought happily to himself. '_Perhaps today's trip to the alley won't be so boring after all._'

"Good morning, Sir." Hermione bowed her head and almost hit it on the floor. In response Filius Flitwick bowed to the small girl clinging to her mother's leg. Jean smiled down at the little man, berating herself for her rudeness but she had not been expecting such a tiny chaperone.

"Good Morning to you Miss, Mrs Granger. I will be assisting you in collecting school supplies today." Hermione then scrambled to her feet to allow the tiny man to enter the house. He waddled into the front room behind Hermione's mother and hopped up onto the sofa, making himself quite comfortable. Hermione smiled. She had been nervous when she found out that Professor McGonagall would not be the one coming to her door today, but this man seemed as though he would be a lot of fun and was obviously a friendly and good natured person. Though he was not what she had pictured 'Professor Flitwick' to look like, she was more pleased with this one than her imagination's version.

"Would you like some tea?" Jean didn't sit; she proffered to stand, probably an effect of all this morning's excitement.

"Oh no thank you. We have a lot to buy today and if I settle now with a cup of tea, I fear you would not get me up again. Are you ready to go my dear?"

"I will just get my bag, Professor." The little man on the sofa flinched at the hammering of Hermione's feet on the stairs.

"She is very excited." Hermione's mother laughed after her daughter. "Jean Granger." She stepped forward and shook the outstretched hand gently. "Tell me, what is it you teach, Professor Flitwick?"

"I am the Charms Professor at Hogwarts." Jean didn't really know what that meant, but she didn't press for an explanation. Soon her daughter would be back and Hermione would not be happy to find her departure delayed because her mother was in deep conversation with her escort.

Sure enough a bushy haired brunette leaped the last six steps and was back in the room slightly out of breath.

"What an eager beaver." Filius smiled at the small - Well, big to him but small to everyone else - girl. She would make a good student.

"Are we leaving?" Hermione beamed from her professor to her mother and back. Jean stepped forward and laid a kiss on Hermione's forehead, ignoring the grimace and groans of disapproval.

"Have a lovely time sweetheart."

"I will Mummy." Filius smiled at the exchange, remembering when his children were young, how they would squirm as their mother showed affection in front of others. Pomona hadn't cared either.

"Well, we better be off." Filius was strangely excited for this trip. He wondered what house the girl would be sorted into. He still knew very little about her, but he hoped that she was intellectual. She would be a great asset to Ravenclaw.

The three congregated at the door and Filius turned his back to give the pair some privacy. Seeing that her Professor wasn't looking, Hermione was less reluctant to kiss her mother goodbye. Jean Granger knew she didn't have to tell Hermione to behave. She was not sure Hermione knew how to not behave.

Filius had started walking to the garden gate when he felt Hermione's presence behind him. Once they were outside, he turned to look at the girl.

"We will be apparating to Diagon Alley. This is the most common form of magical transportation. Now my dear, I must warn you that the first few times you Apparate... Well, you will be side along Apparating today as you are too young to do it on your own, but the first few times will not be comfortable and most people are sick, but it does become second nature with practice. Alright?"

Hermione nodded with a look of pure concentration and determination on her face. She would not be sick in front of him; she would prove that she was made of stronger stuff. He couldn't help but be pleased at her resolve.

"Well," he put out his arm for her to take. "Here we go and hold on tight." As soon as she had a firm hold on his arm there was that 'pop' again. Then she was being forced through a tube that was too small. There was a strong tug on her belly pulling her along as the world spun around her. The flashes of colour and shape and noise were all unprocessable as she was spinning too fast. Instinctively she pulled her free hand up, pointing to what she assumed was the sky in front of her face and stared at her index finger. This provided a point of focus which she found lessened the dizziness. A trick she had been taught by her father after running home from the park crying one evening, because Jacob Webb wouldn't let her off the roundabout at the park. He had spun her faster and faster until she had been sick. This apparating thing felt very similar.

It was then that she was jolted out of the scary, spinning vortex. Hermione looked down at Professor Flitwick, who was studying her closely. She was breathing slightly heavily but she beamed a big smile at him, before lowering her hand from in front of her face.

'_Remarkable._' He thought, before leading her into a dingy old pub. Hermione was glad when they had gotten through to the back door of The Leaky Cauldron. She couldn't help but be a little frightened while walking through. The air was thick. there was a strong smell of alcohol and sweat which wouldn't have been so threatening, except for the darkness and shady glances from the inhabitants that were dwelling in the hidden corners.

Once they were through the amazing, magic wall the professor took Hermione to Gringotts, the wizard bank. He explained that in the first year, all students that started at the school were given an allowance to buy their supplies. On entering, Hermione nearly gasped but held her tongue. Firstly she had been shocked by the amazing white marble hall with its grand, golden decoration and miraculous glass ceiling. Then she had been aghast at the hundreds of severe looking people that were sitting behind the lines of desks, walking around on the marble floor and some even glaring at her. 'Goblins.' Her professor had explained.

She wondered if Professor Flitwick was part Goblin. She had assumed that he had some form of dwarfism but they were in the magical world now. Perhaps people didn't just have dwarfism but they were part Goblin... or had been struck by some sort of shortness spell. Maybe everyone with dwarfism in the muggle world was part goblin but she doubted it. By the disdain in Professor Flitwick's voice as he explained to her about the Goblins of Gringotts, she deducted he didn't like them at all and she instantly felt guilty for imagining he might be a descendant of one.

After collecting the allowance from the bank, they made their way through the list that had been inside her Hogwarts letter. Hermione was enjoying herself immensely. Professor Flitwick was a was an ever flowing fountain of knowledge and he was more than happy to share what information she wanted with her. Hermione was still glowing after being chosen by her wand in Olivander's. Until then she had felt out of place, unworthy of all this brilliance but when her wand, **HER** wand had chosen her, she had never felt more proud in her life. Not even when she had won the online spelling bee for 17-21 year olds.

As the pair made their way to Flourish and Blotts Booksellers, Hermione could feel her hands sweating. Filius could also see the change in her demeanour but wasn't quite sure why. She was staring at the bookshop as though scared of it. The truth was she was slightly scared, but only because once she entered, she was not sure Professor Flitwick would be able to prise her from the books it held within with his tiny hands.

The shop was almost empty as the second Hogwarts letters hadn't been mailed out yet. Hermione had received hers early from Professor McGonagall when she came to the house."Can we go in?"

"Of course we can go in my dear, now we need..." he was left standing alone outside the store. Hermione had run inside.

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><p>It smelt of books; the crisp scent of aging paper made her almost dribble. The shop consisted of two levels. Downstairs there were six displays, each containing all the books that would be needed for each year group at Hogwarts. There were little paper airplanes flying over head, each stating the name of a customer and the book they wanted to reserve for purchase. This was her type of place. Without a thought she made her way upstairs to explore the many shelves. She couldn't help but wish that Muggle books looked like these. The hardy leather bindings and thick but pliable paper really did give the books an air of mystery. There were small books, huge books, multicoloured books, secretive books, angry books, happy books... One even began to sing to her as she walked by.<p>

Filius watched from the floor below as Hermione wandered out of sight. He levitated all the books she needed with his wand onto the counter and paid for them with the small pouch of Hermione's money. Both had thought it useful for him to deal with the money, as she was yet to understand the currency. A copy of 'The 500 most useful spells to know' was sitting abandoned on the counter. He reached out and threw it into the pile he was buying. '_She would like that'_ He thought, reaching into his own pocket to retrieve some of his own money with which to purchase it. After he had shrunk the bag of heavy books down to the size of a tea bag and placed it in his pocket, he went off to find Hermione.

She had her little face pressed up against a book about the founders of Hogwarts. From what she had read, she was pretty sure she would be sorted into Ravenclaw, but then perhaps she was only smart for a muggle… maybe compared to wizards and witches she was average, or even slow. Hermione frowned nervously.

"What is the matter?" Filius asked, seeing a growing question written across her face.

"I was just reading about the Hogwarts houses."

"Oh? Which one do you like the look of?" He was crossing his little fingers behind his back.

"I would definitely put myself in Ravenclaw. It certainly looks like the house that describes me most and a great one to be in." He was having a little party inside his head at this. She was certainly an intelligent young witch, witty and good hearted. "But I was wondering if I'm smart enough. I am certainly the cleverest in my class at school, but that's just at muggle school. This is a whole different kettle of fish."

Filius almost sniggered at the expression. "From what I have seen, Miss Granger, you will make a fine Ravenclaw."

"And who is the Head of Ravenclaw house?"

"I am." Hermione's eyebrows flew to her hairline. She almost wanted to reintroduce herself. He chuckled at her reaction. "But do not start calling me your head of house yet. You have yet to be sorted and every now and again, there are a few surprises."

"I don't think I should like to be in Slytherin." She frowned. A caption in the book had said that the house over all favoured pure blood witches and wizards. "But I am Muggle-Born so I doubt I have to worry all that much." She closed the book and placed it back on the shelf when a thought occurred to her. "What house is Professor McGonagall in?"

"Professor McGonagall is about as Gryffindor as they come. Though she was more than intelligent enough to be placed in Ravenclaw, she is one of the bravest women I know. She is the Head of Gryffindor house."

'Wow' Hermione wondered if she could maybe be placed in Gryffindor, but she was not brave like Professor McGonagall; she wished to be the words that described a true Gryffindor, but didn't think she could live up to them. Trying not to look disappointed she walked over to Professor Flitwick. It was not like she would not get to see her so far favourite professor just because she was not in her house.

The witch and wizard walked down the stairs to the lower level of the book shop.

"I have picked up all you require from here, if you are ready to go." He motioned to the door.

"Thanks you." She smiled at him before looking wistfully back at a shop-full of books she had yet to look at.

"Hogwarts has a grand library you know." Hermione's head whipped back to the tiny man. "Thousands of books, too many to shake a wand at." Hermione giggled at his modified version of her father's favourite muggle phrase and headed with him towards the door. "It is only a few weeks until you shall have full rein of all the books you like. Besides, in the meantime you can take a look at the books we got you today."

They headed back towards the middle of the almost empty street. Now that she knew how to get in with her parents, they needn't trek back to The Leaky Cauldron. "Ready to Apparate again?"

"Very." She beamed before taking his arm, the same look of concentration and determination covered her face.

"Well, lets be on our way."

_Pop._

**Thanks for reading. You know you want to Review! :D**


	3. Through the Gates

Chapter 3- Through the Gates.

The Hogwarts express pulled to a stop at the station which was glowing with a mixture of moonlight and night lamps. Finally they were here. Hermione was one of the first from her compartment to jump off the train onto the platform. She felt grand in her school robes and surrounded by people wearing the same made her feel part of something greater. The bushy haired girl made her way through the bubbling throng to the mass of first years congregating around an unbelievable large man.

"Firs Years, This way Please! Cumon now, don be shy!"

Rubius Hagrid's bushy black bristles made Hermione smile. She wondered if people made fun of his hair to. Probably not when he could just step on them. She stood beside Neville Longbottom whom she had met on the train. Though he seemed a little slow he was very friendly and she was glad to be maybe making friends. That was secretly why she had tried to help him with his toad trouble. She had promised both herself and her mother that she would put in the effort to make some friends. It had not been so important before because after a lonely day at school Hermione could come home and hug her mother but now she was at boarding school there would be nobody to hug her better.

She had also tried her luck with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott who didn't look at all impressed that she had read all of the textbooks already. After failing to integrate herself into their conversation about Susan's Aunt who worked in the Ministry of Magic Hermione slipped out of the carriage to look for Neville's toad. Using this as an excuse she moved up the train in an attempt to find others she could 'socialise' with.

Most people had been friendly but dismissive after apologising for not seeing the toad. Hermione had always been quite shy so as soon as they looked back to what they were doing she couldn't find the words to introduce herself. It wasn't until she came across a very quiet carriage up the front with two first years in that she decided she would finally find the courage to strike up a conversation.

This time, after saying that they hadn't seen a toad she didn't leave. She stood for a few uncomfortable seconds looking for something to say. The red headed boy with the grubby face looked to be doing some sort of magic on his rat. Eager to sit down and join in she said  
>"Oh, are you doing magic? Lets see then."<p>

She didn't mean for it to sound as bossy as it had but it was too late to turn back now. Sitting down in front of the ginger boy she waited for him to continue.

"Sunshine Daisies Butter Mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow" Nothing happened. '_Perfect_' she thought, she could do some magic for them and then they could get talking.

"Is that a real spell? Well, its not very good is it? I've only tried a few simple ones myself but they've all worked for me" She turned to look at the dark haired boy before her and noticed that his glasses were broken, held together with sticky tape no less. '_Wonderful_' she thought remembering how many times she had stomped on her dad's glasses just to try and fix them.  
>"For example, Oculus reparo."<p>

'_Yes!_' she thought to herself triumphantly. Looking up into his stunned face she then realised that the person before her was not just another first year. "Holy cricket… your Harry potter!" Realising that she was in the presence of a wizarding legend she suddenly felt out of her depth and small again. She introduced herself quickly and left before she did something to annoy him.

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><p>Back on the station the giant gamekeeper led the children over to the boat house. First years had to travel to the castle that way. She was placed into a boat with Neville, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. They were laughing and joking at the back of the boat while she sat at the front end.<p>

"You have to fight a Troll you know. To get sorted you have to battle a troll." Neville's face went white as a sheet. "mmmhmm, you have to prove yourself before the whole school. It's a good thing I've been practicing or I'd be real worried right about now." Seamus was smirking at Neville.

Hermione was listening to this with a large frown. You didn't have to face a troll. No first years would ever stand a chance against a troll anyway, not matter how much he claimed to have been practicing.

She turned around to look at them and saw that they were just saying it to take the rise out of a terrified Neville. Dean looked up at her with a cheeky grin. "Isn't that right Hermione? You ready to face a Troll?" He was nodding 'yes', trying to coax her into helping torment Neville. She thought for a second. What was worse? Gaining a friend and making two enemies or gaining two friends (maybe, she couldn't be sure if helping them would gain their friendship) and hurting one of the people that had been kind to her so far.

"Yeah, I've been practicing, I hear it's a fully grown one." Seamus was nodding along happily and Dean gave her a sly thumbs up which made her blush and looked back to the front of the boat. She felt… she didn't really know. Guilt was there but mostly she felt relieved to get the approval of her peers.

It was then that Hogwarts came into view across the lake. It was like nothing she had ever seen with its many pointed turrets and thousands of windows with pains that twinkled in the silvery pools of moonlight. She would apologise to Neville when the others weren't around. She was sure he would understand.

After dismounting the boats onto the shore the group made their way, lead by Hagrid, up to the front gates and into the entrance hall. It was magnificent. Old grey stone walls were lit with hundreds of candles the magically floated illuminating the way they were to take. Most people ran up the steps, excitement levels were high now and everyone wanted to get through and into the great hall. In front of her Hermione saw the two boys, Ronald and Harry from the train. They were right at front when everyone came to a standstill in before a very stern looking witch. One that to Hermione was very familiar.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear. Most people fidgeted uncomfortably as her gaze left him and surfed over the crowd of first years. Hermione smiled but she didn't smile back, instead she addressed them all again."I shall return when we are ready for you, please wait quietly." With that she swept down a corridor to the left. It was then that Hermione grabbed Neville's sleeve and pulled him just round the corner their teacher had gone down.

"Hermione, could you tell me a spell I could use. Oh, I'm going to get killed for sure." He wore a look of defeat, head slumped to face the ground and shoulders slacked.

"I'm really sorry Neville. I lied, there isn't really a troll." She thought he might be mad but instead he breathed a sigh of relief and hugged her. Pulling back a bit embarrassed he said

"Thank goodness, and I was preparing myself to die."

"I shouldn't have helped them trick you, it's just that.." She was the one to look down at the floor then.

"It's okay Hermione, you just didn't want to ruin their joke. And I am used to getting teased, its fine." Hermione suddenly got very angry. She was used to getting teased, she hated it and yet she had helped do it to someone else. She was getting put in Slytherin for sure.

"No Neville, its not alright. It was wrong of me and I'm really sorry. I understand if you don't  
>want to be my friend anymore but…"<p>

"We're friends?"

"Ermm, well I thought so I…" Oh great, now he could laugh at her for her foolishness.

"I have a friend." he said quietly to himself then he looked up into Hermione's face with a massive grin "Gran will be pleased." Just then they heard the sound of Professor McGonagall's boots on the hard stone and they ran back to their peers, both happier than they had been before.

"We are ready for you know, Follow me."

* * *

><p>"Granger, Hermione" Hermione gave a small smile to Neville and walked up to the stool. Filius sat forward in his chair with a small grin on his face; Pomona almost laughed at his obvious enthusiasm. Professor McGonagall frowned as she had to put extra effort into forcing the hat onto the girls head over her bushy brown hair.<p>

"Ahh," Hermione jumped at the voice inside her head. She looked around trying to determine if anyone else had heard it but then when she had been waiting she had not heard it speak to anyone else. '_Must be in your head'_ she thought. "Very clever but a brave one…"

"Im not brave" She said without thinking but luckily nobody heard, except the woman that stood at her shoulder waiting for the hat back.

"That is not what I see, you shall be great, a marvellous witch whose loyalty will shine above others." Hermione's eyebrows were working at full capacity reacting to what the hat was saying._ 'Loyalty?'_ After what she just did to Neville on the boat. She'd have to work on it. Before she could say anything about it the sorting hat shouted "Gryffindor!"

The cheer from the Gryffindor table woke her from her thoughts. The hat was lifted of her head and she made her way over, a look of confusion on her face. Once she was at the table she sat down next to Seamus, across from some read headed twins.

"Don't look too disappointed there." they chuckled. '_Oh,'_ she thought, _'what must the other people in the house think of me.'_ She replaced her confused frown with a bright but slightly buck toothed smile.

"Forgive me, I'm thrilled it's just, I was sure I would be Ravenclaw." She looked up to the staff table where professor Flitwick was looking a little disappointedly down at his empty plate.

"Well, the hat don't get it wrong." They chimed in perfect unison.

* * *

><p>"Well, what an outcome, Gryffindor." Minerva sat smugly in a comfy, Gryffindor red armchair in front of the fire, a glass of scotch tucked securely in her left hand. The staffroom was a miss match of different styles of furniture. Each teacher conjuring their favourite seat to relax in. Pomona Sprout was stretched out on a battered brown lazy boy recliner, her eyelids heavy, hooding her tired grey eyes. Filius was in his own armchair, which was similar to Minerva's but an indigo blue and quite a bit smaller to accommodate his size. Severus Snape was mulling over the selection of drinks on the centre table left by the house elves. Once he had poured himself a small glass of firewiskey he returned to an uncomfortable looking leather sofa. Rolanda Hooch was conversing with Aroura Sinistra in the corner while Albus was staring out of the window with an aloof look on his face.<p>

"Stop with your gloating, Minerva" Filius Chuckled. He had first been disappointed at the loss of Hermione from his house but he quickly cheered up thinking about how much she would thrive in Gryffindor and about all the other brilliant students that had been sorted into Ravenclaw that he had yet to meet.

"A rather brilliant litter you have this year, My Dear" Albus looked back from the window, the twinkle in his eye just as visible as the many stars behind his shoulder

"I have a brilliant litter every year Albus, Brilliance is a natural requirement for my house" She laughed at Severus' loud tut and turned to face him "Though I am not the only one who has done uncommonly well this year. Severus, how are you feeling about your first years."

"Uninterested."

"Any particular reason?" Minerva shook her head a Pomona's question. He didn't need a reason, that's just the way he was.

"They are children." Several people laughed at his sarcastic drawl.

"Well they can't help that Severus" Filius raised an eyebrow at the younger man.

"I hate children."

"Remind me again why you teach." Rolanda came up behind Severus and gave him a friendly punch in the arm. He raised his eyebrow in mock agitation but then allowed the corner of his mouth to quirk into something close to a smile.

"I don't know, Albus, remind me again why I teach."

"Because who else do we have to frighten the children to their very core?"

"Minerva" Everyone said at once causing the Scottish witch to shoot daggers at all of them and splutter in protest, this in turn eliciting another laugh from the people in the room. It was true of course but she wasn't frightening for the fun of it and she tended to think those who behaved themselves never had to be afraid of her.

"Oh yes" Severus looked at his former transfiguration teacher. "I seem to remember you made Harrison Stilch wet himself in my third year" Minerva put her head in her hands '_not this again._'

"That was one time!"

"Yes but you have made countless cry, including him, on the same afternoon if I'm not mistaken"

"Alright! I get it." she turned back to the fire her good mood had been slightly dampened.

"Severus you teach because you want to share your flawless technique and skill at potions making with the younger generations." Albus tried to pull attention away from his best friend and deputy.

"Hmm." Severus said knowing that was not the truth but that was what the staff would believe to be true. He didn't look at Albus again.

"Mr Potter here at last, that was a sure one wasn't it. He was sure to be Gryffindor." Filius spoke happily, trying to cheer up Minerva who now looked uneasy in her seat.

"I don't know Filius, the hat took a while to decide" Pomona muttered.

"I could hear him chanting 'Not Slytherin'" Minerva's smirk was back.

"Charming" Snape muttered to himself. Not all Slytherins were evil! Yes, many a bad witch or wizard had left Hogwarts School for the last time wearing Slytherin colours but why did nobody remember all the triumphant, honest, good witches and wizards that left in the same way?  
>"It is rather humorous to listen to them talking to the hat." Minerva continued.<p>

"Well, we wouldn't know, you have been doing the ceremony since the stone age." The glare that Severus received from Minerva gave him a new feeling of empathy for Harrison Stilch.


	4. Kids Can Be Cruel

**Chapter 4- Kids can be cruel**

Hermione held her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of her laboured breathing. She was pressed against the cold stone wall praying that the thundering footsteps of her pursuers would pass on by. She clamped her eyelids shut as the heavy footfalls came to a stop just on the other side of the open door she hid behind, causing a single salty tear to run down her flushed cheek.

"I was sure she ran this way." Draco Malfoy's icy gaze dissected the second floor corridor; searching for hiding places. He took a short step into the open but empty classroom on his left but turned around to look at Crabbe as he spoke.

"Draco, it doesn't seem right to hit a girl." the ogre of a boy scrunched his face up tight making it look even smaller for his large round head than usual.

"Look who's gone soft" The blond haired boy spat. "Anyway, we aren't going to hit her, just rough her up a bit, break her bag, call her some names and go have lunch." Goyle smiled dumbly thinking that sounded like a lovely way to spend their break. "The filthy muggle born needs to learn her place" Draco and Goyle sniggered but Crabbe still looked confused.

"I guess she can't help that she's got smarts" Hermione appreciated him standing up for her, even if in the process he did sound like an oaf.

"What? Do you love her or something?" Even in her hidden moments of terror Hermione rolled her eyes at the immaturity of the two Slytherin boys, as they whistled and made agitating teasing noises causing the third member of their group to turn beet red and get angry.

"No!" Crabbe bellowed, causing everyone in the corridor to look round at him. Draco strutted out of the classroom and grabbed the bigger boy by the collar of his robes, pulling him down to a shorter level.

"Well, shut up then!" he hissed.

As the trio of young Slytherins wandered away to the great hall defeated, Hermione allowed her head to fall back and rest on the wall she leaned on. She missed her mum; Her mother would know what to do. The girl let her knees give way and Hermione slid, exhausted into a sitting position. Once there, she hugged her legs close to her chest, burying her face so that the wonderful world she had been allowed to enter wouldn't see her tears.

This place was so amazing, but it was also so horrible. All she wanted was to learn, but to learn you have to ask, to ask you have to speak up and if you speak up you stand out. People like Draco Malfoy don't like people who stand out.

After several minutes of quiet panting, Hermione left the relative safety of her hiding place. She breathed through her mouth now that her nose was blocked from crying. Her skin still felt prickly from the adrenaline accumulated from the 'thrill' of the chase. _'Lunch time'_ she thought. Hermione didn't want her peers to see her like this; they disliked her enough already without her walking in and displaying her vulnerability to them. Where should she go?

Hermione let her mind flit through happy memories as she wandered through the castle, books clasped tightly in her arms. Before too long she just decided to sit down. There was a whole 50 minutes until the end of lunch, and the beginning of her next lesson. In that time she could skim read a hefty amount of '500 most useful spells' or she could be thorough and examine the next ten spells on her list of ones to learn now. The list prevailed. Hermione did love to be thorough.  
>As she skimmed her fingertip delicately over a demonstrative diagram of the correct wand movement for the patronous charm, she felt as though she was being watched. The thin wispy hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention as she thought of what new names whoever it was had to call her. Hermione lowered her book. Just in front of where the girl sat, crossed legs on the ground, was a silver and black tabby cat. It eyed her suspiciously through it's furry spectacle markings.<p>

Hermione of course knew it was professor McGonagall, as did everyone else after that amazing demonstration during their first lesson, but she chose not to acknowledge the cat as her teacher, instead as just a cat . That way she didn't have to put any effort into making herself seem happy. Cats didn't care what's going on as long as they get fed. That was short lived because after a minute of staring into Hermione's blank and unmoving face the cat turned in a circle and became a tall, regal but severe looking woman, made even taller by the fact Hermione was sitting.

"Pray tell why you felt the need to arrive 42 minutes early to my lesson, Miss Granger" Hermione's brow furrowed for a moment. She looked around. She was indeed sat outside the transfiguration classroom. She must have subconsciously gone where she knew she would soon need to be.

"I was just sitting Professor, I didn't even realise I was here."

"Why are you not at lunch?"

"Not hungry." Hermione mumbled looking away from her teachers perceptive eye. After a long moment of silence, Minerva sighed loudly.

"Well, since you are here." she brushed her long, thin fingers over the door knob, magically unlocking it to let them both in. Hermione bit her lip as she pulled herself wearily onto her feet, grabbing her bag and the books that wouldn't fit into it on her way. Hermione hadn't had an opportunity to be alone with professor McGonagall yet, and she found herself afraid. The transfiguration teacher had not been what Hermione had first thought. She was not friendly like the girl wished she was, fair and consistent, a brilliant and thorough teacher but not particularly friendly. This had come as a shock to the young witch, as she had spent most of her life creating a character from the snippet that she had seen as a small child and had apparently found her creation very inaccurate.

She followed the older woman inside, walking straight to her usual seat up front with a great view of not only the board but the window that overlooked the forbidden forest. She liked to look out at it and daydream about the magical creatures that dwelled within when she had finished long before her fellow classmates. Her professor walked around her desk and took the seat behind it placing her palms flat down on its wooden surface.

After a long while of teacher and student looking at one another with intervals designed so not to be caught doing so, professor McGonagall spoke.

"So, you are not going to tell me the real reason you did not go to lunch? Which, might I add, I am only condoning as you looked so sombre sat outside. From now on meals are not to be missed."

"Yes Professor." Hermione always felt a little ashamed when talking to this woman, who was not her favourite teacher anymore; professor Flitwick had taken on that role even though she was not a Ravenclaw. When conversing with the transfiguration mistress, she couldn't help but feel left behind. Her tones were so authoritative and certain that all questions Hermione could put to her came out of her mouth sounding frail and unsure in comparison.

"Well?" Hermione almost flinched at the word. She would not normally be this fragile but she had just been chased around the castle and the physical hardship had most certainly taxed her emotionally.

"No, I'm not" Hermione lowered her head to the table. A movement that the older witch copied so to keep eye contact as long as possible.

"Why won't you tell me so I can help you?" The young Gryffindor's head shot up. It was clear the woman knew her problem but that was not the cause for surprise; she had never heard her voice sound so soft. Hermione thought Professor McGonagall's accent really added to the terror as she shouted at you, not that Hermione had been shouted at, but she had seen it in the corridors and heard people talking about being scolded. It also seemed the accent added to her caring tones. Remembering she had been asked a question she shakily replied.

"Because, I'm not a snitch Professor" In her experience, snitching to the teacher resulted in your hair getting cut off in art class. Minerva's mouth quirked a little and it was surprising how a millimetre adjustment at the corner of her thin lips made such a transformation. It was difficult to believe only seconds ago she had looked so austere. Perhaps it was the expressiveness of her eyes. They conveyed clear emotion like no others that Hermione had seen.

"No." She reached out and pulled a few pieces of parchment towards herself, shuffling them into a neater pile. "You are certainly too big and not nearly gold enough." There was a second of silence before Hermione's small shoulders began to shake.

Hermione was too busy laughing to see the smile that appeared on Minerva's face as the young girl laughed for the first time in her presence. Filius had said it was a hearty laugh.

"Well, since we are here, perhaps Miss Granger you would enjoy getting a head start on today's class work?" Hermione retained her smile after the laugh, her troubles suddenly forgotten. Eagerly she nodded, pulling her transfiguration book from the large pile she had been walking around with in her arms. "Surely your arms are aching from the heavy load you have been hauling about."

Hermione shook her head. "I did a feather light charm on them before I left the common room."

"Of course you did." The professor shook her head feeling utterly foolish for even contemplating that this student wouldn't already know and be able to perform the charm that she would be taught again in second year. "Miss Granger, how are you enjoying your transfiguration lessons so far?"

Hermione's eyes went wide. She didn't want to insult her professor but she didn't want to lie. So far they, had not done any practicals, what with going through the safety and theory of simple transfiguration and the young witch was itching to give it a go. "Well, it is an intriguing subject and I cannot wait to get started with trying the spells for real. The theory is very interesting though… but I had read all the books at home so, I guess I grasp it a little quicker."

"A little?" Minerva had seen Hermione sitting in her seat waiting for the others to finish hoping that the teacher would not make it known to them that she had completed the tasks set so quickly. "I have one more lesson of theory work planned before we start practical transfiguration." Hermione looked pleased to hear this and so Minerva was quite curious to see her reaction to the rest of the sentence. "But since we have unoccupied time now, would you like to test yourself?"

Minerva had to rein in a laugh that was quickly building in her belly, begging to be released. Hermione's mouth fell open for a second before she looked with a massive smile on her face. Her arms seemed to vibrate in some sort of excited celebratory dance. Once she was done, she turned back and nodded so vigorously. Her teacher feared for the safety of her neck. "In that case." Professor McGonagall stood from the high backed chair, behind the huge wooden desk and made her way around it.

With a quick, seemingly effortless wave of her wand, a chair materialised in front of Hermione's table. The witch glided over and took a seat. Another flick of her wand and a muttered incantation, a cube the size of a lego brick zoomed from a nearby cabinet."Engorgio." Now the size of a shoe box, it sat comfortably in Professor McGonagall's lap. She pulled open the lid and took out a silver box of matches. After replacing the lid she put the large box down onto the floor. A single match clattered down on the desk in front of Hermione.

"The first thing we will be doing is a match to a needle." Minerva was about to tell Hermione which page to turn to in the book when she stopped herself. The girl had already pulled out her wand and taken a deep breath. She stared down at that match like it was a childhood friend. The professor remembered feeling the same fondness for that little piece of wood in her first year, but only after completing the transfiguration. At first she had observed it as an enemy soon to be vanquished.

"Page…" too late. Hermione had closed her eyes and waved her wand in the clockwise motion she had practiced, and spoke the words that she had drilled into her head as soon as she opened her 'A Beginner's guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch' to page fourteen, the day she got home from Diagon alley. She sighed out an excited breath and opened her left eye. Too afraid of failure to look at the match, she looked at her teacher. With a smirk on her face Minerva gestured to the match; Hermione looked down to see a shiny silver needle sitting where it should have been.

Contradictory to what Minerva had expected, Hermione did not celebrate her victory until after she had switched the needle back into a match.

"20 points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger. 10 for being the first student in your year group to show me a successful transfiguration and 10 for not needing to consult your textbook. Quite remarkable. Now, shall we try something a little harder?"

* * *

><p>For the next half an hour that they sat together, Hermione was in bliss. Her teacher had definitely warmed up being in the comfort of her classroom, talking about her chosen subject. She clapped at Hermione's triumphs and gave warm and helpful encouragement at the few failed attempts. Hermione never wanted it to end; she had turned a beetle into a button, changed the colour of the button, turned the button back to a beetle and changed the beetle to a lovely violet which Professor McGonagall told her to leave because she liked it so much.<p>

After that they skipped a few steps to some harder spells. Minerva smiled proudly as Hermione finally managed to vanish the quaffle she had transfigured from a ball of yarn. Though her teacher's smiles were small and without teeth, Hermione felt so proud to be on the receiving end of them. Minerva was intriguing to watch; all her movements were so graceful and refined and every one of them meant something. Hermione hoped that one day she would be able to read her like she could so many others.

Though Hermione couldn't see it, Minerva was having fun, with a student no less. _'Odd this'_ she thought. She was breaking a rule that she had followed for years and she found that she didn't care. This student's passion for learning and natural ability was not only inspiring, but it was fascinating. She wondered where Hermione would be in a few years, no doubt excelling, but what paths would she take? What subjects would she choose to carry on? Minerva knew she would be one of the many subject teachers crossing their fingers for the answers to that question. All this just a few scant weeks into a child's first year was unheard of and Minerva was thrilled. As she beheld that talented girl fail, but not even consider giving up, she was struck dumb by the possibilities for the future. This girl was special and though Minerva vowed as an educator to help all students meet their potential, she would give Hermione what ever time she required to help her knowledge and skill grow.

The young Gryffindor felt better than she had felt in all the time she had spent at Hogwarts. She deserved to be here. She was just as much a part of the wizarding world as anyone else. She slumped back in her chair feeling exhausted. Though she did practice these spells in her own time, she had not cast so many different spells at once, rather concentrating on a specific one and allowing herself rest when she had completed it successfully. She had to admit though, the feeling of exhaustion after rigorous wand work only added to the pride she felt.

Seeing her student tiring, Minerva sat forward to touch Hermione's shoulder, face full of pride when her head snapped up to the door. The noises of children lining up outside had built gradually over the last five minutes. That's why Minerva had only just noticed it. She quickly stood and banished all of the teaching aids they had been using. Hermione smiled again, as she watched the chair her teacher had been sitting in vanish as she stood. Wandless magic was so cool. _'Any magic is so cool!'_ her mind corrected itself. Once Minerva was sat at her desk she opened the classroom door.

Before anyone had even entered, Hermione watched her professor harden. Shoulders squared as she prepared for battle, which Hermione supposed it kind of was. Hermione wondered if she was like she had been with her just moments ago outside of Hogwarts, or was she completely different. Did she have a life outside these old walls of stone? The young witch knew Professor Flitwick had children, a family, what of this professor? Hermione felt guilty for judging her before. It had not even been a month and she had labelled her professor like so many other, less insightful students.

Now was not the time for contemplation. The lesson was about to start. To Hermione's surprise, Malfoy and his cronies were the first to walk through the door. They were usually the last to skulk in in the nick of time, not just for transfiguration but for any lesson that wasn't potions.

"Ah, There you are Granger. We've been looking all over for you. You dropped this earlier." Malfoy's voice dripped with an ugly sarcastic friendliness that made Hermione's nostrils flair. She looked round to see what he was talking about and her face dropped. In his hand he held an old homemade bracelet. She turned and quickly rummaged in her bag. It had indeed vanished from the side pocket.

"Well here I am, could I have it back please?"

"Of course Granger, come and get it then." The smug smile on his face transformed into one of pain as the bracelet went red hot causing him to squeal and drop it. Instead of falling to the ground it soared into the open hand of Minerva McGonagall.

"Sit down Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger you may collect this at the end of the lesson." She dropped it into a draw in her desk. Malfoy glowered at her before examining his hand for incriminating burn marks; finding none he muttered something about his father and retched Gryffindors. Crabbe and Goyle stood beside him, waiting for instruction. To the girls delight they followed the blond boy to their seats in the back corner and didn't speak to her again.

Once the class was all sat down and quiet, Minerva began her lesson.

"Next lesson we will begin practical transfiguration… Mr Thomas this is not a fun-fair, this is a lesson. Whooping and other such noises have no place here. However, thank you for the enthusiasm. As I was saying..."

Today had been interesting; Hermione stared out of the window towards the forest, not quite believing it was only half way through.

* * *

><p>Minerva watched the three Slytherin boys whisper amongst themselves as everyone packed away their belongings to leave the classroom. They kept sending glances towards Miss Granger, who was skimming her hands over her transfiguration book waiting for everyone to go so she could collect the bracelet. Finally the boys left, but Minerva had heard some of their plan due to her keen feline hearing; one of the many useful crossover traits she had developed through years of regular transformation into her animagus form.<p>

Now they were alone, Hermione stood up and made her way to the front desk, which wasn't far at all since she sat as close to it as she could manage.

"You know jewellery is not permitted in the dress code, Miss Granger."

"Yes Professor, I wasn't wearing it. I keep it in my bag. Good Luck an' all." Hermione looked down at her shoes. She had thought it was silly, but her mum had insisted she kept it with her at all times and who was Hermione to turn down luck?

Minerva tutted at herself in mock shock. "I am sorry Miss Granger." Hermione looked puzzled as to what her teacher could possibly be referring to. "It seems that in a momentary lapse of judgement I have placed your bracelet into the wrong draw. This one.." She gestured to the small top right-hand one "Transports all things put inside it to the identical desk in my office. Would you mind accompanying me there to retrieve your property?"

"No, not at all Professor." Hermione didn't know if her professor had really done this by mistake, or this was some sort of plan to try and get information about the bullies from her. Either way, she was grateful, knowing full well that there would probably be someone waiting for her outside.

"Good."

After picking up a few stacks of paper and shrinking them to pocket size, Minerva was ready to go. She looked up at Hermione, who was sat in her chair waiting and the pair proceeded to the door.

Hermione walked out into the corridor first, closely followed by her teacher, who for some reason exited the room staring straight at a supply cupboard facing them from the opposite wall. Minerva took out her wand and locked the classroom, but Hermione heard her do a second spell that was too quiet to tell exactly what her professor had done. It was then that Hermione noticed an inch of black material that was easily identified as the hem of someone's school robes, hanging out from under the door of the cupboard.

They had been waiting for her she thought sadly; _Wait,_ What had her professor just done? Suspiciously, Hermione eyed her teacher who was looking down at her with an incredibly straight face. Professor McGonagall turned her back on the classroom and ushered Hermione the other way down the corridor. As they walked away Hermione heard a muffled "Hey, the doors stuck." and turned to her teacher shocked.

"Yes Miss Granger?"

"Did you just…? You locked them in." Hermione shook her head not knowing what to feel. Maybe this mature, stern faced woman wasn't so mature after all.

"I don't know to whom you are referring, I locked the supply cupboard because it should only be open if Mr Filch or myself happen to need something from it, I have no idea to why it was unlocked in the first place." Minerva had in fact unlocked it herself when she had heard the Malfoy boy's plan to hide inside it and ambush Hermione as she walked past.

"But there are people in there."

"Don't be ridiculous, Miss Granger. What would people be doing congregating in a supply closet?" She shook her head at the absurdity. "Well, if you feel so strongly that you should go and check, I will not stop you. I have no doubt that you know an unlocking spell, but I assure you, Mr Filch will be along soon to collect cleaning equipment. If there was by some small chance students in the cupboard, they would not have long to wait to be released and maybe in that short time could work on some self reflection." With that the older witch began to walk again at a pace betraying her age. Hermione was about to run to catch up but stopped once more as she saw her teacher round the corner, emerald robes swishing around her as she went; she was really going to leave them in the cupboard!

"Alohamora." Hermione spoke sadly; she really wanted to leave them in there, but she simply couldn't for several reasons. As the three fell out of the cupboard confused as to why when they had been ready to run at the door to barge the bloody thing open it had opened of its own accord, causing them to run straight through the open space and fall painfully onto the hard ground, Hermione slipped round the corner after Professor McGonagall.

Minerva heard the crash of students falling and sighed. Miss Granger had let them out; she wondered why. If it had been her eleven year old self given the choice, she would not have let them out, but that was the difference between her and the young witch. Hermione had the same intellectual flair, passion for knowledge and love of magic the Minerva had had and still had, but Minerva had been an angry child; an angry adult but she could channel it much better now. _'hmm, says you who just locked some children in a cupboard.'_ she sighed again. Hopefully the differences between herself and Hermione would be enough. Enough to allow Hermione to have the life she deserved; a life Minerva had dreamed of but was never able to ascertain, a happy one.

Hermione caught up with her teacher quicker than she thought. McGonagall must have waited for her at some point along the way. As they reached the professor's office Hermione took a few steps from the door so not to hear the password. Minerva was grateful, of course while she was in her office, the door was unlocked for people to enter but while she was not inside, she didn't want any members of the student body to know her password. She shuddered at the sudden flashback she received; a view of her trashed office and a guilty looking Sirius Black with his hands above his head in a gesture of surrender.

Hermione had been in the office once before this to ask about extra curricular activities. She was quite disappointed to find that Hogwarts didn't have any of the of the extra classes her old school had, like music lessons and trampolining. She had not expected those of course but she had been expecting something along the lines of that to compensate for them and was disappointed to find only quidditch, which she didn't like the look of at all. She came to a stop and waited in silence for her teacher to sit down.

Minerva leaned across the desk, bracelet now in hand and waited for Hermione to step forward. As she went to take it Minerva spoke.

"Why did you unlock the door?" Hermione stopped mid movement and stood up straight again, eyeing her teacher slightly confused. Seeing the girl wasn't going to take the trinket back any time soon, Minerva sat back into her chair and waited.

"A few reasons." Hermione shrugged.

"and they were?" Hermione kept her eye on the bracelet in her teachers hands as she toyed with it between her fingers.

"Well obviously they would blame me for being locked in and come to pay me back for it," Minerva nodded acknowledging this as a good enough reason. Seeing this, Hermione thought for a moment before continuing "and when we were younger Abigail's brother locked us in the attic. I've never been more scared in my life, it was dark and cold and we couldn't get out. I know it's completely different and they might not have been scared in the slightest but I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Why do you ask?"

"Curious." '_Curiosity killed the cat'_ Hermione's brain chimed making her giggle silently.

Minerva couldn't bring herself to feel guilty for what she did to the Slytherin bullies, but this did give her cause for thought. She handed the bracelet across her desk to Hermione who took it happily.

The young girl looked up with an obvious question on her face. It made Minerva slightly sad that the girl was so obviously eager to go but after all, she was the old dragon.

"You may go, Miss Granger"

"Thank you professor, for everything." Hermione smiled to her professor one last time before turning and walking as quickly as she could to the door. Once she had pulled it open, she had an overwhelming urge to bolt as fast as she could but resisted. Closing the door behind her Hermione took a long deep breath.

She didn't know why she was so anxious to get away, after all she had had a wonderful time before class with her professor but it wasn't like spending time with her charms teacher. Being around Professor McGonagall was exhausting, and it had nothing to do with the extensive amount of wand work she had done either.

Hermione couldn't help but feel on edge with her. Every second in her presence was thought out and monitored. Everything had to be controlled because there was no doubt in Hermione's mind that this marvellously intelligent and miraculously perceptive woman would not only detect signals but extrapolate them flawlessly. She was not a book and therefore Hermione didn't feel too comfortable about being read. Not by McGonagall or anyone.

The young Gryffindor decided to go back to the common room. Though the other Gryffindors were not her friends, they were not her enemies either. To her delight, on arrival Neville was sat on one of the sofas, giving her free rein to take a the empty space beside him without an awkward moment of asking permission.

"Hiya Neville." Hermione slumped lazily down into the cushions of the sofa beside him, an obvious contrast to the energy she showed in her greeting but that was only there because she hadn't spoken to Neville in a few days.

"Hey Hermione." He grumbled, in his chubby fingers he clutched his rememberal. The red smoke within was drifting in and out of different shapes taunting him for his forgetfulness.

She had not had much opportunity to socialise with Neville since Herbology where they were neighbours. Most of her time was spent in the library and though Neville had few friends, he had more than her and chose to follow them rather than be subjected to the boring old library.

"Did you hear? Harry Potter is going to fight to the death with Draco Malfoy tonight. Do you reckon we will lose more house points if Harry dies or if he kills someone? I know Professor McGonagall cares a lot about upholding Gryffindor's honour."

"WHAT?"  
><strong><br>This was two separate chapters ( 4 and 4.5) but I've put them back into one, the way the chapter was intended.**

**I am going to try my hardest to stay to the original story(as in dates and times of things happening) but some stuff might get shuffled about slightly. Thanks to all that have reviewed so far, its really good of you and I have tried to get back to you all. Unless you don't allow PMs then I should have messaged you back.  
>To Preached, yeah, during term time is going to be pretty much the same as in the books but it will get a little AU later on :)<br>**


	5. The Night Before

**Hello all, wrote this and the next chapter just now so i could post them for you quick. Hope they are okay. **

**Disclaimer. Im not jk. **

It was the evening before Halloween and the giant clocks chime had resounded seven times through the thick stone walls of Hogwarts. Moonlight shone into the charms classroom illuminating the empty room with a silvery glow. It was not the only light present. Through an open door set behind the teaching desk yellow candle light mingled with the moons blue beams.

Filius sat behind another desk. Through the door was his office where he worked steadily through third year papers, most of which were surprisingly well written. As he worked, half of his attention was fixed upon the task at hand and the other was listening to the young Gryffindor that accompanied him. It was a shame and he was saddened that she was not well liked. He could not understand why; she was incredibly witty for her age, intelligent and entertaining, she held a certain sparkle that could inspire most. Unfortunately these were traits far more favoured more among the faculty than the student body. Still, a selfish part of him hoped her visits would continue; she really was great company, happy to let him be if he was busy but equally happy to engage in in-depth talks and he did enjoy her stories of Muggles and their customs.

Right now though, she was reading in an armchair that had been conjured specifically for her. At first she had visited with the claim that she had questions about work set, curious facts in library books and confusing passages in informative wizarding magazines but Hermione would always linger, striking up conversations on intriguing topics that would last for sometimes hours. After a week or so during which she lingered four times Hermione finally admitted she was not getting along with her fellow classmates and was really hiding out. Filius didn't mind, she was no trouble and always brought a book or homework to occupy her time and though the frequency of her visits had lessened in recent weeks to maybe twice a week he doubted that she was any closer to solving her friendship problem.

Hermione found the sound of Professor flitwicks quill soothing. It scratched quietly along the parchment leaving a rasping, crisp sound in her ears. She had just turned the last page of her book and for the first time this evening observed the room she sat in. Pulling a cup of very weak tea to her lips she sipped on it, grimacing as it scolded her tongue. The girl resentfully replaced it on the coffee table and continued to look about, her curious nature springing forward like an excited puppy making her want to run about and skim her hands over all the interesting magical trinkets and the thick hardback books, she wanted to explore, to discover, to behold… to do everything. That was why she brought books to occupy her curiosity; without an outlet it almost always got the better of her.

Suddenly Hermione let out a small gasp. In the corner of her eye, through the open doorway that led into the Charms classroom she saw something very familiar to her. The sharpness of her little head snapping round to look at it caused her professor to look up from his papers and observe her odd behaviour. In the corner of the classroom beyond was a large object with a grubby looking sheet carelessly tossed over it, hiding it from plain view. However part of the cover had come away revealing a glossy black leg with a square, golden foot. She knew exactly what that was. At home she did not have a grand piano like this one. Theirs was old with many light scars etched into it's reddy-brown wood; Hermione didn't mind that though, she thought its battered body only made the music that came out of it seem all the more beautiful.

Music had been missing from Hermione's life for the last two months and it felt strange; it was a permanent fixture in the Granger household; of course there was a wireless in the common room but she was to nervous to turn it onto a classical station just in case people saw that it was another reason to pick on her.

Filius tried to follow his student's gaze but from where he sat the piano was out of view.

"Miss Granger?" He squeaked.

"Professor Flitwick, Why do you have a piano in your classroom?" Her eyes never left the shape that tempted her into the darkness of the classroom. Hermione had answered Filius' question with her own.

"Oh," He chuckled merrily. "I had Professor McGonagall transfigure it for my 4th year lesson tomorrow. They will have to take turns charming it to play itself." The man puzzled at the longing in her eyes, he did not know whether the look was to learn the spell or to get closer to the piano. "Do you play?" Hermione nodded her head absentmindedly, eyes still not leaving the foot of the solitary instrument. Her thoughts were on her own, how brilliant it felt to learn a new sheet of notes, how relieving it was to come home after a particularly frustrating day and smash a meaningful melody upon it's keys. "Are you any good?" She shrugged, turning back to the tiny man.

"When I was 7 I broke my leg tripping over Leona's dog and had to stay in for the entire summer. We have an old piano in the dining room and I never really took much notice of it before. Dad taught me to play then and I became quite take with it. After that he decided to get me proper lessons. I had them since, until I came here. Dad wanted to be a professional." She had often talked with her professor about her parents. He understood them to be teeth doctors, not musicians.

"Why didn't he?"

"Wasn't good enough, that's why he wanted me to get lessons from someone who was. He used to teach when he was younger because he is good, he says he's just never been quick enough for the more impressive pieces."

"Do you ever do performances in the muggle world?"

"Only in assemblies and things, end of school concerts sometimes but I don't really like to play in front of lots of people. Mostly I just play for my Mum and Dad."

"Would you play for me?" Hermione had been waiting with her fingers crossed for him to ask her and he knew it. She was itching to play. The girl beamed a big smile, jumping to her feet from her chair and practically skipping through the office door into the moonlight streaming though the huge classroom windows. Filius stood up much more slowly straightening his desk before levitating himself over it onto the ground in front. Placing his wand back into the waistcoat pocket beneath his outer robe he followed suit.

In a moment the witch had her fingers entwined with the dirty cover and pulled it of, smiling widely at the now fully exposed ebony grand piano. She ran her hand over its smooth surface coming to a halt at the centimetre overhand and lifting the lid to look inside. She wandered right the way around it taking in every angle of it but once satisfied she scampered to the front and opened the hood to expose the ivory keys beneath.

Filius watched the entire thing intrigued. This young witch was full of surprises. While she went about her odd business he walked over to the door that led out to the 1st floor corridor. Reaching into his robes he pulled his wand, waving it and muttering a hushed incantation causing a silvery translucent sparrow to flit from it's tip and swoop down the hall towards the great hall.

"Professor, could you conjure me a stool? I left my wand in there." She pointed back to his office which was only a room away but now she was so close to playing for the first time in a while she didn't want to let the beautifully crafted instrument out of her sight. With another wave of his wand a wooden stool with a felt top appeared behind her . Smiling her thanks she sat suddenly very unsure of herself. "What should I play?" She whispered.

"What was the last thing you learned?" The last thing Hermione had insisted on learning was from a film that had come out that same year. It was indeed a beautiful piece but she perhaps it would be safer to play something she was more familiar with. A small voice in her head spoke up 'You're a Gryffindor now, be brave, take the risk.' Nodding with a confidence she didn't really have Hermione positioned her hands ready to start, with one last look up at her teacher who was sat on one of the benches that students sat on during the day Hermione closed her eyes and let her thumb make contact with the first key of many to come in the next three minutes.

Meanwhile…

Minerva looked up to see Filius' patronus soar into the staff room and fly in a tight circle around her head.

"Minerva, come and see this." His distinctive squeak floated on the breeze coming though the open window. His voice did not sound urgent nor angry. _Probably wants to show me his new quill _she groaned using the arms of her chair to drag herself up the proceeded to make her was to the tiny teacher's classroom.

Filus' mouth fell open. Usually when a child says that they can do something, well in his experience anyway, they were enthusiastic but not all that great at it. Hermione being Hermione he had expected her to be good _well if she was a meticulous with her playing as she was at school work no doubt she would be very good_ But this was amazing. He watched as her head lowered, all the time her eyes were clamped shut so not to distract from her memory of the correct combination of keys, fingers working steadily from what was sure to be many hours of practice. With every individual note her face would quirk into a different expression; she was completely immersed in what she was playing. Hermione leaned down towards the keyboard as the melody became more tricky, the closeness to the piano making the both her and the piano seem more like a partnership rather than just instrument and player. A herd of hairy elephants could have stampeded through the room and she wouldn't have noticed. Everything was black and white, the keys were all she saw, the chords seemed to be playing themselves as her digits danced happily over them and never had this particular melody been so calming to her. Hermione was at peace with the world. That's was why, two minutes into her wonderful rendition, she didn't notice Minerva McGonagall poke her head round the door.

Minerva was beckoned in by her college and obligingly took a seat beside him. She was amazed by what she saw. The piano she had transfigured earlier dwarfed Hermione making her look even smaller as her hands raced unrelentingly. Another thing she had not known about the muggle-born first year; she played… exceedingly well. The tune had gotten darker now, the pair could see the concentration in Hermione's face as she put the correct amount of pressure onto the keys to produce a shaper and more angry sound. Still though, it was beautiful. Filius was looking from the girl to Minerva excitedly trying to gage her reaction.

Hermione and Professor McGonagall had not talked in private for a few weeks now. Hermione tended to stay away if she could help it and Minerva did not see any need to see the girl when it was un-necessary. Though the relationship between them was professional and friendly Minerva couldn't help but feel that Hermione didn't like her, perhaps more than most students. Though the other first years did not overly like their strict but fair teacher at least they didn't run away as soon as the chance was there. That had become a habit of the young Gryffindor. Both teachers were alerted to the fact that the pianist was ending the show as the angry crescendo of heartfelt playing had subsided into the soft tinkering of a dying melody.

Hermione's played the final noted and let her hand hover, the print of her right index finger resting lazily on the last black key. It was a second before Professor Flitwick's little hands began to clap frantically "Bravo, Bravo" He chorused while laughing causing Hermione's smile to widen but she didn't look up until she heard the distinctive tones of her head of house.

"That was beautiful Miss Granger" Hermione was happy for the compliment but was very aware of how surprised the woman sounded which in tern Hermione took as a little bit of an insult.

"Thank you." Hermione smiled shyly at her teacher before turning and shutting the hood.

"Wont you play something else?" Filius was still clapping which made the young brunette giggle but a small frown flashed on her face.

"I am sorry Professor but I really should be getting back to my dorm. It's quite late and I have transfiguration in the morning." She shot the older woman a happy glance. "I want to be well rested."

"Of course Miss Granger, don't forget your things." He looked a little disappointed but quickly got over it. The man levitated the dusty sheet back over the piano and turned to his friend. "Odd, she usually stays another half a hour." Minerva nodded silently to him as Hermione dashed back through the classroom from the office; bag on back, books in hand and trying to juggle several rolls of parchment. Subtly Minerva waved her wand shrinking the scrolls to a more manageable size. In response to her shrinking homework Hermione eyed both teachers suspiciously. Noticing the tip of Professor McGonagall's wand just visible behind her emerald outer robe Hermione grinned.

"Thank you again." Minerva nodded a your welcome nod and watched as Miss Granger bid her last goodbyes before rushing out of the door.

"It's not odd at all Filius. She doesn't like me. That's why she ran" Filius was alarmed at his friends view of what had just happened and at how un-bothered she sounded at the idea.

"Nonsense Minerva, you are her favourite teacher, we discuss it quite regularly." The powerful witch looked down at him in disbelief.

"Don't be ridiculous. I am not her favourite teacher." She chuckled at the idea. "I am not anywhere near the top of that list." Filius Flitwick raised an eyebrow at his long term friend.

"I'm sure I should know Minerva, since I spend so much time with her. You are her favourite teacher, I am her favourite member of staff." He nodded proudly.

"Well if I am her favourite teacher" She put extra emphasis on the favourite. "Why does she run at every given opportunity?" Minerva gestured towards the door Miss Granger had just escaped through. Filius' wrinkled face scrunched into a funny one of intense puzzling.

"This might not be so but I believe that she doesn't like to spend time with you privately because she doesn't want to show herself up. She is very concerned of your opinion of her you know." Minerva sighed not at all convinced by his words at all.

"Is there anything else you wanted?"

"Nope that was it, but what a revelation ey? It's surprising really, I wouldn't have pinned her for the musical type."

" I don't know, I can see it." Minerva nodded, recalling how perfectly at home Hermione had looked as her bushy ponytail bobbed along with the fast pace of her playing. "Well, I think I shall be of. I took 70 points from Slytherin today and I want to get back to my rooms before I run into Severus." She chuckled thinking of how she had practically rugby tackled him when he had taken 110 points from her house in one potions class. Of course all points taken from his side were taken justly, the same couldn't be said for the snake. She and Severus were very good friends but it really irked her that he was such a dreadful cheat. Though the house rivalry between them had turned into a big lot of fun and games for the teachers Minerva tried to dispel the hate as much as she could for the sake of the students.

"See you at breakfast Minerva, are you dressing up?"

"Oh Filius, I don't need to dress up, I scare everyone enough as it is" She shot him a coy smile before pacing of to her rooms in Gryffindor tower.

**Night after the troll attack is coming next. Let me know what you think. If you want to know what she was playing in my head follow the link :D www. youtube ****.com/watch?v=JOoVWvlqB0U&list=FLXmLCG057EjI89OlEKXkZxg&index=17 (Minus spaces ;) Cried so much at this film when i was little. If you dont think thats right, let me know what you think she was playing for Minerva and Filius. Reviews very much appreciated :D**

**Much love :D **


	6. Bad Dreams

**Hey :D Hows it goin! Well as i probably said somewhere i dont have a beta so all mistakes are mine... anyone interested in helping? let me know :D **

**PS, Longest chapter so far :O and i hope you dont mind that i skipped the actual troll attack, i figured we all know what happened but if anyone is too upset i can write it and put it in... thought it might just be a bit boring for everyone since we know the scene and everything.. anyways.. get reading :D **

Chapter 5 -

Minerva McGonagall woke in a cold sweat. She wiped angrily at her tears with the back of her hand as she tried to catch her breath. It had been a while since she had had that particular nightmare and she was just thankful she had woken when she did, before that night 63 years ago unfolded further into something so much more unbearable to recall. Once her respiratory pattern was back to normal Minerva climbed out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.

The cold water soothed the aching neck; most of her muscles ached from tensing and relaxing continually throughout her nightmares. Beads of liquid lingered on her pale skin; whether tears, sweat or tap water they were no match for the white cotton towel that was dragged heavily across Minerva's face and to her shoulders. Looking up towards the large bathroom mirror she sighed tiredly; the woman that stood before her was almost unrecognisable; the years had changed her. Well, a life like hers would have changed anyone. Heartbreak after heartbreak hardened a person whether they liked it not. Minerva had not meant for this to happen but this was who she was now and no matter how hard she tried to dig herself out of the hole of a character she had created for herself she found she was still sinking. It seemed that the old dragon staring back was here to stay but then, it could be worse; Minerva had friends, a lot in fact and her students did look up to her and she was sure they knew that she cared about them. Well she hoped they did, though no visible, concrete affection was relayed to the students of Hogwarts Minerva had always been there, protecting from the sidelines or the forefront when needed.

She was pulled out of her musing by a slight tingle in the base of her skull; there was a magical disturbance inside Gryffindor tower. Had she been sleeping the feeling wouldn't have been enough to wake her but being awake already she could sense that someone was in the Gryffindor common room. Needing a distraction from the scene she had just relived in her mind Minerva pulled on her dressing gown on over her floor length button up night shirt and walked through her private quarters to a bare piece of wall between two polished alder bookcases.

The witch placed her palm flat on the wall and waited a few moments for a doorway to appear. The door that materialised before the deputy headmistress was a bright red with the Gryffindor lion etched deep into its wood, the handle was a brassy knob with a golden 'G' on its surface. Only accessible by the heads of house and the Hogwarts Headmaster the doorway worked similarly to the room of requirement, appearing when needed and creating a direct route to the common room of the specific house; in case of emergencies or laziness.

Minerva waited for the red wood to become fully opaque in front of her before removing her hands and reaching for the handle. With some force it clicked and the heavy door eased open onto the Gryffindor common room which was bathed in light from the roaring fire. The fires would have been put out at midnight by the house elves as was routine meaning one of the students had lit it themselves. _Three guesses who knows Lacarnum Inflamare already_ Minerva thought as she entered quietly pulling her long plat forward over her shoulder.

Sure enough Hermione Granger sat holding herself on the communal sofa staring into the flames with a woeful expression. The girl would have been reading if it weren't for the extra strain that the small ebony print would have on her pupils; she had not cried since the incident but her tired eyes still hurt from earlier in the day when she had locked herself in the girl's bathroom and released her tears. Who would have thought it would be those actions that would finally gain her some allies in this castle full of enemies. Hermione itched her temple before replacing her small hand on her lap to meet the other. She squinted as the flickering flames she watched so tentatively wavered for a long moment; no windows were open but a cool, short breeze made the hairs on her arms stand up. Looking up for the source of the changing temperature Hermione's eyes widened to see Professor McGonagall had entered the room somehow and was watching her.

The older witch stood by a bare piece of wall in a tartan dressing gown that looked awfully warm, her greying black hair was in a long plat that lay over her left shoulder, the loose end lay in soft curls that pointed in all directions but Hermione was far too tired to be amazed at her strict teachers state of undress.

Rather than partake in a convocation she didn't want to have she went back to watching the fire. McGonagall was the last thing she needed right now. Hermione was feeling rather fragile after almost being murdered by a gigantic troll and then having to lie to her favourite teacher and then had to injure being told by said teacher that she was a disappointment; all this not even mentioning the nightmare she had just woken from. A rough day to say the least however it seemed that it was going to get worse; now she would be reprimanded for staying up late and told to go back upstairs to face her nightmares. Great.

Minerva didn't speak at first. Slowly she walked over and sat at the other end of the sofa from the young witch that was determined not to let her gaze leave the fire again. The Professor found herself having to concentrate really hard to make out the smaller details of the girls expression as in her haste to leave her bedroom she had left her gold rimmed glasses sitting abandoned on the bedside cabinet. Finding that without them she couldn't read the situation as well as she would have liked to Minerva decided words were probably the next course of action.

"Why are you out of bed Miss Granger?" Hermione found herself frowning at the soft Scottish lilt that before today would have soothed her worries. Right now however it angered her to no end. The last thing that Professor McGonagall had said to her had been delivered with such an icy and hurtful undertone that Hermione had feared that the woman would never speak to her again and here she was, being nice as pie as if nothing had happened making all Hermione's earlier fretting and worry unnecessary and ridiculous, what a waste of time. She didn't want to talk to Minerva; she wanted to go to bed but she couldn't go back to sleep after that dream; she would have sat in her dormitory but the symphony of outrageously loud snoring going on in there had been beyond irritating causing her to grab her quilt and make a dash for the common room.

Hermione ignored the question. Today had been the most draining day she had experienced since arriving at Hogwarts, since she could remember but surprisingly her mind was very much awake and thinking. Everything seemed very clear to her all of a sudden.

"I want to go home." Hermione whispered more to herself than the woman sitting by. She really did want to go home, she wanted to see her family but that just wasn't possible. She didn't see the look of absolute remorse that overcame her teacher's face. Minerva felt her heart plummet in her chest and she too turned to look into the fire. Hermione stole a glance and felt a prick of joy at her professor's forlorn expression. "I won't of course, that would be silly but… I don't want to be here"

This was a slight relief but not much. The girl was obviously not happy here and that wasn't what Minerva wanted at all. She showed so much promise, so much potential to excel where so many others couldn't; Minerva really hoped that this was only a moment of weakness due today's attack on her person rather than a complete lack of liking for this new world that had opened for her but if it was that was completely understandable. Lots of muggle-borns found it exceedingly difficult to find their way in the wizarding world… more than not succeeded but many just preferred the life they had lead before Hogwarts thinking it even better now that they could do the odd spell here and there.

"Why do you want to go Miss Granger?" Of course Minerva could think of lot of reasons but again she wanted a particular one. Hermione had dealt with her lack of friends so far and now did not seem all that fazed by it lately and so she was putting it down to the shock of the tie in with the Troll which Minerva wanted to know more about. She wanted to know why the girl had so obviously lied to her about her own involvement with the happenings in that bathroom.

Hermione thought for a long while. What was the biggest reason that she wanted to leave? What was the final weight that tipped the scale to home rather than Hogwarts? Because after all she had thought about it for a long time tonight and it was a close fight between the two.

"Tonight, I thought that I was going to die" Minerva went to speak but Hermione leaned forward in her seat towards the warmth of the fireplace, moving her hand slightly to show her teacher that she wasn't finished. "I was almost murdered and nobody…" She shook her head in disbelief "Nobody has come to talk to me, nobody has said anything. All I want right now is my mum because if she was here" Finally for the first time in the convocation Hermione smiled. The thought of her mother lifting her spirits if only a little. She looked round into her professor's face and saw what was almost always there, nothing; Hermione had never met someone so skilled at looking emotionless in her life. That didn't cause Hermione's bright smile to die however; with her home fresh in her mind she continued. "She would hold me and tell me things like… 'Everything's alright now… You're safe. You don't have to be afraid anymore because nothing like that is ever going to happen again'" The smile died on her lips as she looked of into the distance suddenly feeling very alone. "That's what she'd say if she was here but she isn't and there is nobody else here to say it, I guess I will have to settle with saying it to myself." The older woman's heart cracked at the sad chuckle that escaped her upset gryffindor cup. "Though when I say it it is not nearly so convincing."

Seeing this as a natural end to the convocation as her teacher seemed to not want to join in Hermione reached down, took hold of her quilt and was about to get up when her professor did something very unexpected that at first shocked her but quickly Hermione began to relax.

Minerva had scooted along the sofa and pulled Hermione into her arms. She held on tight as much for herself as for Hermione as the girl got over her shock. It had been a long time since Minerva had hugged a student and most of the times she had it had been at their graduation to say goodbye. As for times like this where comfort was necessary Minerva McGonagall was much more of the reassuring hand on the shoulder type and tended to run from the full blown holding thing. Albus had always said she wasn't a very good hugger, that she was too 'pointy' unlike Pomona who gave marvellous hugs and though he had been joking she could not help but be slightly self conscious about it now.

Working on instinct alone the older witch moved her hand to smooth Hermione's bushy brown hair. It was a long moment before anybody spoke. She couldn't help but smile a little as Hermione let out a small sigh of contentment, her head resting lightly on her teachers shoulder. This was at least reassuring that her hugs were not so bad.

"Everything's alright now." Minerva frowned as she spoke concentrating on saying this right; wanting for it to have the desired effect and comfort Hermione. She knew that she would not be able to bring justice to the words as Hermione's mother would have done but perhaps she was better than the poor child herself having to think them aloud "You're safe. You don't have to be afraid anymore... because nothing, Nothing like that is ever going to happen again." She paused there, knowing she was done; that she had said what was needed but found herself wanting to continue. She sighed knowing she should stop there but couldn't. Minerva's voice took on a sincerity that made Hermione feel warm inside. "I will never let anything like that ever happen again."

That's all Hermione had wanted; though the hug was reluctant and awkward it showed that her professor didn't hug people all that often which to Hermione made it feel more special. She had been sure she would not get this from anyone here but apparently she had been wrong again.

"Thank you Professor" Hermione felt ten times better as she whispered this, her head not wanting to leave its perch on Professor McGonagall's shoulder.

"Your welcome" Minerva whispered back, a little distracted as her fingers were still running through the girls hair. Though it had been years since Minerva's own mother died she had never forgotten how comforting it had been to just sit with her while she received the same treatment Hermione was now getting. She missed her mother. "Why are you not sleeping?"

Hermione knew if she didn't answer she would probably have to move and so she decided she would rather answer than lose the comfort.

"I had a nightmare."

"What a coincidence" Minerva chuckled without thinking. At this Hermione sat back to look at her teacher, while embracing she had been pulled half onto McGonagall's lap and so sitting back without thinking caused her to fall on her lap and the tiny distance at the end of the sofa until her back was once again made contact with the arm of it. What did the great Minerva McGonagall have nightmares about? "Would you like to talk about it." Hermione didn't know, her nightmare would probably pale in comparison to her Professor's and Hermione wasn't at all proud of her greatest fear, Did she really want McGonagall to know it?

"Do you promise you wont laugh at me?" Minerva's face changed to one of shock. Did Hermione really think her so tactless that she would laugh at her nightmares?

"Of course I will not laugh at you Miss Granger." She place a reassuring hand on the girl's should. At this Hermione took a deep breath.

"I have an irrational phobia." She looked down at the carpet ashamed of herself. " Clowns!" she whispered angrily. Clowns? Minerva thought to herself. Are those not the people that dress up and paint their faces in an attempt to entertain children? She would have laughed at the irony but she had promised not to. "There is a clown called Pennywise and he eats children. My cousin Matthew showed me the film when I was smaller and I have had nightmares about him since. Not very often but still..."

"Well that was unkind."

"Yeah! Especially since he left me on my own as soon as the Clown came and started killing people!" Why would Muggles make a film like that? Professor McGonagall had not seen many films. Albus had insisted on taking her to the cinema when he first discovered it and on the rare occasion that the pair were away from Hogwarts he had a battered old television at his home that he had acquired from Arthur Weasly and they had sat together and watched some old and very boring westerns that came with it. Dumbledore had enjoyed himself immensely but had been disappointed when he turned to see Minerva fast asleep at the end of every single one. "The troll was in it to."

Hermione had just reminded her professor of something that had been troubling her all evening.

"Miss Granger, why did you lie to me?" Hermione looked up shocked that Minerva had seen right through her lie in the bathroom; she felt ashamed and let her eyes sink to her hands that where fidgeting unhappily in her lap. "I know you did not go looking for it. why didn't you tell me the truth?"

"I'm a dreadful liar" Hermione muttered causing a smile to bubbly up on Minerva's face.

"That is a good thing my dear. Now, answer the question."

"They just saved me. Even though it was kinda their fault I was in the bathroom and that the troll was in the bathroom and that we were both locked in the bathroom, i wasn't about to let them get into trouble. Anyway, i told you before professor, I'm not a snitch."

"No. you are certainly too big."

"And not nearly gold enough" Hermione finished her professor's sentence and giggled quietly. There was a long moment of quiet while the two sat and waited for somebody to break the comfortable silence."Erm, What did you have a nightmare about professor?" Hermione watched in horror as her teacher stiffened before her eyes and quickly regretted speaking. Only a fragment of a moment had passed and already she missed the warmth and kindness that had been present in those expressive emerald eyes; now though, it was a mere memory as the strong walls, as strong as Hogwarts' own clamped shut around the older witch. To counter her intrusion into the woman's privacy she said softly "You don't have to tell me or…"

Hermione was cut of as the scary Professor McGonagall returned; the new icy demeanour sending a stronger chill down the girls spine than the real breeze that had made her shiver earlier. "Your right, I don't!" McGonagall snapped. There was an awkward silence for a few moments in which Hermione felt crestfallen and Minerva felt regretful.

"I just heard its better to talk about them. I'm sorry, for a moment I forgot who I was talking to." Hermione's spoke timidly as her brows knit together. Minerva wanted to firmly bang her head on something. Her student was becoming visibly smaller by the second. After presenting herself as someone the girl could confide in, someone she could trust she had ruined it all by not keeping her temper, by biting back out of habit. She wanted to reach out to her, to apologise but before she could move a muscle Hermione had sprung to her feet. Minerva's neck tensed uncomfortably as she noticed how Hermione backed away from her as if not wanting to be exposed to attack; yep, the trust was well and truly gone. "I won't break lights out again Professor." She didn't even say goodnight as she gave one last frightened look and bolted up the stairs to her dorm.

As the young Gryffindor breathed a sigh of relief at putting distance between herself and that woman, that woman who she could not understand at all, her breath caught in her throat and she shook her head in disbelief; She had left her quilt downstairs. Going downstairs to get it now would result in her looking like a complete idiot, trying to make do without it would probably result in freezing to death and transfiguring one, while maybe impressing her teacher, would also result in her looking like an idiot if her professor came upstairs to return her quilt and saw that Hermione was so afraid of the intimidating witch she would not even returned to fetch it. After a second or two of quick thinking she resolved that the plan was to occupy herself for a little while, if her professor didn't notice the quilt and left well yay but if she did notice it and came to return it Hermione could say she had not even noticed not having it since she had not gone anyway near her bed yet. Only downside was if she went to get the quilt and the woman was still there; she doubted it though, what reason would Professor McGonagall have to linger?

Minerva sighed, her gaze instantly falling onto the thick, Gryffindor red bed quilt that lay bunched up, abandoned, on the carpet beside the sofa's arm. Miss Granger had left it; What should she do? Hermione had made a hasty escape for a reason and Minerva didn't want to embarrass or upset the girl or herself by venturing up to the dorm to return it but was Hermione that stubborn that she would let herself become an icicle rather than come and retrieve her main source of warmth? Hermione was like Minerva in many ways and the older woman knew that she herself was most definitely stubborn enough. After a few moments of tactical thinking Minerva decided she would wait a little while and see if Hermione came down to retrieve it, if she did then fine but if she didn't, not wanting the girl to catch hypothermia, as if her first term wasn't going badly enough, she would take the quilt up to the hopefully sleeping Gryffindor and put it back where it should be.

After 15 minutes, both older and younger were ready to initiate the next stages of their plan. Hermione tip-toed down the stairs and to her horror her teacher had just stood, cover in hand and was making her way to her dorm room. Hermione emerged from the mouth of the stair case and looked up into her teacher's face, shuffling uncomfortably.

"I forgot my cover." Hermione said dumbly, reaching out to take it from her teacher's hands. Once taking hold of it she nodded her thanks to the transfiguration Mistress and turned back to the stairs. As she took the first step Hermione stopped. She hadn't really had the opportunity to talk about her dream and though she had said that talking helps to McGonagall to try to diffuse the tension she had really meant it. Things always seemed clearer when they were laid out before you in their simplest form. "Do you know why I'm scared of clowns?" It was a rhetorical question; of course her professor would not know, she had only found out about the fear less than half an hour ago.

"Because your cousin Mathew made you watch a film about a clown that eats children?"

"No" Hermione shook her head, Pennywise was just the specific clown that haunted her nightmares; she had already been afraid of them when she was made to watch that blasted movie. "Though it certainly helped that's not why. They wear those painted on smiles and run around happy but it's all pretend really; It's like they are deceiving everyone. They wear their make-up masks and nobody knows what lies beneath, who the person is really when their name isn't Tumbles or Mr McHappy and that frightens me. It feels like a trick, like they are lying and you can't know what to expect or how to read them because what you see isn't real." Hermione's eyebrows raised in surprise as she had just answered a question she had been asking herself for a long time. "That is why I'm so afraid of you." She said in a light and happy tone, pleased at solving an irritating mystery. "You are not what you seem and you change like that" Hermione clicked her fingers. "I can't tell whether you are a kind person that lies to the school about being cold or a cold person who lies to me about being kind." If Hermione had not been in the picture but watching it she would have been horrified. Never would she talk like that in front of McGonagall but as she stood at the bottom of the stairs she was talking to herself, her teacher wasn't there. This was all self analysis that just happened to be being watched by the woman in question

Minerva observed her itch the back of her neck contentedly before yawning. Today had exhausted her beyond belief and she had school in a matter of hours. Thinking the same thing the bushy haired girl turned her back and began to ascend the stairs.

"Goodnight professor. I hope you don't have any more bad dreams." Hermione sent one last small smile over her shoulder from the top of the stairs before opening the door to her dorm.

"Goodnight Miss Granger, the same to you."

Minerva was left standing in the common room. Now that was something to think about. Was she a kind person that lied to the school about being cold? or was she a cold person who lied to Hermione and maybe herself about being kind?

* * *

><p><strong>Please leave a review, thanks for reading<strong>

**ps, i fecking hate clowns... especially pennywise :D hahaha, and the clown that turned out to be a murderer in some film or another i saw**

**anyways, thanks for anyone who is continuing to read my foolish ramblings. just to let you know that the rating might change in the near future... not anything drastic it is still a mother/daughter family fic and there isnt going to be any sex/drugs or... we all like rock and roll dont we? It's Just because there may be like... 1 swear word in chapter 15 and its gonna get angsty soon, some scary stuff from Minnies past and i thought i should warn you. Okay, i will shut up now.**

**Much love :D**


	7. A New Broom

**Hello everybody (Hi Dr Nick) Thanks to Imagen99 for all your help, now that i can actually work the DocX thing you can really beta it (Sorry if i've missed anything, Im a real clutse) :D Much, Much, much obliged. Thank you to all the people that have reviewed and favourited this story. I think i have gotten back to you all but if not... very sorry (If your that bothered you can send me another review ;) tehe, cheeky much.**

**Disclaimer... ive said it already.**

Hermione Granger sat at Gryffindor table with her friends; Yes, Friends. Harry Potter and Ron Weasly, the two boys from the train compartment had apologised profusely at once back in the common room. Harry, a thin boy with scraggly black hair and impressively green eyes had been uncommonly kind and she had liked him instantly. Now though his impressively green eyes were absorbing fun facts as he shuffled through his chocolate frog cards absentmindedly. He was done with his breakfast unlike Ronald who continued to shovel food into his face with outrageous speed. Hermione had not been so sure about this boy. He was very sarcastic and didn't seem too eager to share his famous friend but both Ron and Hermione were coming around to one another.

It was surprisingly warm for this time of year in the Scottish highlands and Hermione could feel in her bones... today was going to be a spectacular day. Though it was only the morning after the events of Halloween, for the first time in the girl's school life she was socialising with people her own age and actually enjoying it. She didn't feel uncomfortable or threatened; she was an equal part of this newly formed trio, a trio she hoped would last. Already, on their way to the great hall Ron had defended her from Malfoy's slurs against her blood status and it seemed to have done the trick. No, the ginger haired wizard was not very good at magic however he was loud mouthed enough to startle the bully boy Slytherin into a swift exit. Ron had definitely warmed to Hermione after she gave him a thank you hug for his chivalry.

It had taken longer than usual to arrive at breakfast. Having people to talk to on the way really tamed her usual frantic pace. Harry had made her laugh; as they neared the great oak doors he had closed his eyes and followed his nose towards the stacked platters of piping hot food.

The three kept up their comfortable conversing whilst filling their stomachs; Harry and Hermione between mouthfuls, Ron exuding muffled grunts through his overly stuffed chops. Hermione was the first to finish eating. Although the value of a large and sustaining breakfast had been drummed into her head by her mother she had eaten in excess at last nigghts common room feast. Pulling out her Charms book, she was surprised that the ordinary response, a loud and disapproving groan had been replaced by a light-hearted and friendly one. _I could get used to this she_ thought happily.

Up at the head table the teachers were conversing jovially, all except for professor Quirell who was eyeing Professor Snape dejectedly whilst pushing his food around his plate. There was a symphony of screeches from above as the morning post arrived. Masses of paper wrapped parcels fell from above into the awaiting clutches of the Hogwarts students.

Nothing ever really came for Hermione and so she continued to read her book, only looking up when the sunlight returned to the great hall. The tremendous flock of varying owls no longer blocking it's warm beams out with the span of their beating wings. Gentle chatter was struck up again throughout the hall but it only lasted for a few minutes before an intrigued hush swept over the entire student body.

"Harry…" both Harry and Hermione looked up at Ron and smiled as his sausage fell off of his fork into his lap. He wasn't looking at them however and so they followed his gaze up towards the top window.

Hedwig, Harry's beautiful snowy owl swooped down towards them carrying a long thin package in her talons. Everyone knew what was concealed behind that paper and the excitement, especially that of his fellow Gryffindors grew to a tremendous level as Harry's package was placed (not dropped as the other packages had been. Hedwig was a very gentle and loving creature, preferring to present a package to her master rather than drop it on him which Hermione, being sat next to Harry, was very thankful of.) onto the dark wood of the ancient school table in front of Harry Potter.

"Harry…" Ron's eyes were wide, his blue irises shining wildly against the clearly visible white. "Open it… Open It!" He continued to stare at the package muttering inaudible words under his breath, his hearty breakfast readily forgotten. Harry was equally excited and elbowed Hermione who was looking elsewhere.

"Help me?" Ron definitely didn't need to be asked twice and almost demolished the array of plates and cutlery to get to the string tying the wrappings around the hilt of what was obviously a broom stick.

There was a collective gasp as Ron revealed the golden characters painted onto the far edge of the handle.

"It's a nimbus… it's a Nimbus 2000!"

* * *

><p>At the head table Albus was continuing his argument with Poppy from yesterday. Poppy looked to be getting irate at the old wizard, her skin becoming flushed and her fists tightening.<p>

"Albus, it is a well known fact. A tiger would win!"

"But Poppy, Lions have those brilliantly threatening manes. I know from first hand experience…" He reached up and flicked his long white beard over his shoulder to join the large amount of white hair falling untied down his back. "I don't know what it is but people find such long and wonderfully silky locks frightening. I am sure I've gotten out of many a fight because; compared to my opponent I had the superior beard." He smiled at Poppy who continued to fume.

"Everyone knows that the males, who have manes are useless. It is the lionesses, who don't have manes, that are the providers for a pride. A tiger, being larger in size generally and sporting canines that can grown to ten centimetres in length would easily take a lion."

Filius who was listening silently remembered something that a young muggleborn had said to him a few weeks back.

"Miss Granger told me that in some Zoos they have been doing Lion Tiger interbreeding. To produce Ligers and Tigons. Apparently they are amazingly large with white sandy stripes."

Albus Dumbledore clapped his weather beaten hands over his gaping mouth.

"Surely Filius, you speak in jest..."

The convocation was there interrupted as a strange hush came over the crowded hall. Everyone's attentions were focused on the large owl that was flying gracefully trough the top window. Minerva, who was on Albus' right hand side gave a loud tut.

"What is it my dear?" Albus leant towards her slightly, still keeping his twinkling eyes on the package that had just been delivered.

"I told Hagrid Not to send it at breakfast. I certainly didn't want a scene like this." She shook her head displeased but disguised her unease as the snowy white owl flew over to her and landed by her plate. She reached out with her long, willowy fingers and stroked Hedwig's sharp beak. The bird nipped affectionately at the end of her digit and weaved if feathered head happily.

"What's that?" Minerva pointed out of the window making a pleasing distraction so she could steal a piece of bacon from Albus' plate to give to the waiting bird. Having had this trick pulled many times on him by the stern witch Albus knew better than to give the window more than a glance.

"Min!" He grumbled as he watched last piece of bacon be snapped up in that shiny black beak. Minerva gave him an apologetic smile, careful not to let it sit to long or the students might start their rumours again. It was ridiculous, she couldn't even smile at her friend without later hearing a whispered and very dramatic alternate life that some student or other had created for her. Some were shockingly scandalous but then it was to be expected in a place such as Hogwarts with so many gossiping teens that knew so little about her.

"It's not like you needed it. You have already consumed enough this morning to appease a Tiglon."

"Tigon…" Filius corrected her. All the staff were now looking back to Harry potter as he opened his broomstick from its wrappings. 'it's a Nimbus 2000!' the youngest Weasly shouted causing one or two members of staff to turn and look at Minerva who didn't notice, she kept her eyes on her new seeker and his friends.

"The tactics of the woman!" Severus mock glared at the side of her head. "Not all of us are rich enough to buy our quidditch team the fastest broom yet. Headmaster there is surely some rules about this." Minerva sighed dramatically before leaning across the Headmaster and said

"I think you will find Severus… that there isn't. And it isn't the whole quidditch team, just the youngest seeker in a century that doesn't have anyone else to buy him a broom. I doubt the poor lad has much of his own after having to live with those foul Muggles, who obviously didn't care for him and neglected the boy." Albus felt that the last bit was directed the last bit was directed at him but remained silent.

"More tactics! Come on people, don't you see. She's trying to tug on our heart stings! The nerve of some people." He was trying to rally up the other heads of house but was failing miserably as they didn't seem to care in the slightest. Only he thought it a grave injustice to his house and so he gave one last glare before returning to his breakfast.

"Maybe if he didn't spend all his money on hair care potion he might have enough to get his team some decent brooms"

"I heard that!"

Down at the Gryffindor table Hermione watched their head of house closely. As she had been the only one of the three of them, maybe in the entire hall that had watched as Hedwig landed on the head table in front of their transfiguration teacher. Everyone else had been to admiring/envious/excited to pay much attention to anything but Potter and his new toy. Hermione elbowed Harry in the ribs, shocking him out of the trance he had been under and looked towards her with a puzzled face.

"Who do you think it was?" He was a little chocked up having never received a gift like this. He wanted to find whoever was responsible for his new found happiness and hug the life out of them.

"It was Professor McGonagall." _Maybe not _he thought; he doubted she hugged anyone, never mind a student. Harry looked up the great hall and eyed the woman intrigued. She was chortling quietly with the rest of the faculty over something and he couldn't help but think right now she looked somewhat more huggable than she normally did but Harry wasn't sure if that was him talking or his gift. Suddenly she looked up catching his eye and holding his gaze; not knowing what to go he smiled his shy, crooked smile at her feeling embarrassed at not knowing what he was supposed to do next. Minerva replied with a small incline of the head releasing him by looking away. Her eyes moved to the seat next to him where Hermione Granger was beaming at her with the biggest grin she could have mustered. The deputy head felt a warm feeling growing in her belly and went back to her toast and jam.

* * *

><p>There was a soft knock on the door of Minerva McGonagall's office. Her reaction was to agitatedly drop the administrative work she had been doing for Professor Dumbledore and rub her weary eyes. After last night's sleep or lack there of she was feeling run down and ready to fall asleep slumped unceremoniously over her desk. While not a regular occurrence it was not a particularly peculiar one either; Albus, who would always check that she was not still working before he himself went to bed, would be greeted with the sight of Minerva passed out in her office two or three times a year. His reaction had always been to smile sadly before levitate her through to her rooms and she had always been grateful for the act of kindness. Sleeping the entire night in that position often made for a painfully achy morning. Although, she did feel somewhat that it was owed to her since Albus was always palming his Headmaster's duties onto her already full to-do list.<p>

"Come in." Minerva pursed her lips and examined her hands sleepily. After about thirty seconds the door creaked open. She was quite surprised to see Hermione Granger peep her head round the door. Her nose was crinkled into a questioning expression.

"Did you say come in?" Hermione smiled shyly and entered further at her teachers nod. "Sorry, I think I might be deaf from all of Ron's screaming." she scuttled over to the chair in front of the large wooden desk and looked up at her teacher expectantly. Later, on reflection Hermione had been ashamed of herself. This morning she had vowed that she would not let her fear of Professor McGonagall effect her anymore, especially if it was going to have an effect on her studies which no doubt it would as her professor, when on good terms, had allowed her to work ahead and helped her to excel.

"That is quite alright Miss Granger. What is it that I can help you with?"

"Well, I know Harry hasn't had the opportunity to get away from the rest of the quidditch team yet and… I know he will be along to thank you himself but I wanted to say thank you anyway." McGonagall nodded her head in acknowledgement with a small smile tugging on her lips. Hermione also wanted to thank her professor for her actions the previous night but couldn't find the words. Instead she looked about the office as had become custom when she didn't know what else to say. Minerva observed with a small smile, there was a while were they sat in comfortable silence in which she was about to begin with her work again but couldn't with the girl just sat there; she was not Filius Flitwick and did not enjoy being overseen by anybody if she could help it.

"Was there anything else Miss Granger?" Her teacher said kindly taking up her quill again. After sending a short glance at the large pile of papers on the desk Hermione spoke.

"Yes, but I can come back when you are not so busy. I wouldn't want to put you behind it's just there is something I don't understand in my textbook." Minerva to eyed the pile. To tell the truth she was doing it to get ahead, there really was no need to do it now but she couldn't help but feel reluctant at abandoning it. Seeing this Hermione shot her a smile.

"Maybe I could come and see you about it tomorrow?"

"Yes Miss Granger that would be much more agreeable." By then she would have completed this tedious talk and would be far enough ahead to give some time to her first year Gryffindor. Hermione nodded once more and hopped of her seat.

"Thank you Professor" Hermione practically skipped out of the door without waiting for a reply. Odd, Minerva thought before turning hatefully to her paperwork.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore walked quickly and quietly. The candles that lined the hallowed halls of Hogwarts had started to extinguish themselves and the first of many house elves had come up from the kitchens to begin cleaning the classrooms. He stepped in time with the ticking of his ever exuberant mind as he pondered many things at once, everything and nothing. Today he wore a lovely pair of red robes with a golden trim, though being Headmaster he was not to show preference to any house he would never abandon his Gryffindor roots. Minerva would aprove.<p>

He had not seen her since dinner, which was odd as she did not have afternoon classes on a Tuesday to occupy her time and would usually be found in the staff room, good and ready for a chess match or, if the day had taken a lot out of her, a card game. That was why he was on his way to her office having already checked her rooms to find them unoccupied.

In a short time he was outside the panelled wooden door about to knock when he heard a sound from within. A sliver of bright light was shining from the room into the now dimly lit corridor alerting the headmaster that the door was slightly ajar. With lines of curiousness etched into his brow the door was pushed open gently, not squeeking as it had been charmed to by Minerva, keeping silent while the wizard muttered a strong silencio under his breath.

Neither witch looked up as the door opened, they were to engrossed in what they were doing; neither did they know the wonderous scene they presented to the entering wizard. Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk, fingers swiping speedily over a fourth year transfiguration text book, thin lips twitching slightly as she read. Reading over her shoulder stood Hermione Granger reaching over Minerva to point at the final chapter with a concerned expression on her little face. The older witch hastily read to where the girl was pointing and nodded, raising her eyebrow disapprovingly.

"You are indeed correct Miss Granger, I will be in touch with the publisher. Ever since they replaced people with that blasted self check spell the abundance of both grammatical and conceptual mistakes has increased exponentially. I shall read through all the transfiguration text books that have been updated this year when I have some spare time, no doubt this is not the only mistake to be found." Hermione held her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes opening wide.

"Oh, Professor I didn't mean to cause you more work. I did try to work it out myself but just ended up very confused, the text contradicts itself on so many occasions I couldn't sift through it on my own." Albus Dumbledore smiled at the twinge of disapointment that appeared in deep brown eyes, she was so much like his friend; perhaps too much.

"Miss Granger, My fourth years wouldn't have notice the mistake at all, never mind being able to disifer what was Lovelliah Kempley's Transfiguration theory and what was Tabius Wespurt's Hypothersis of changing matter. You were right to come to me." Looking more pleased Hermione looked up from the book.

"Professor Dumbledore." She nodded, shocked at his sudden apearence. Minerva looked up only for a second before looking back to the book.

"Miss Granger, how are you this evening?"

"Good thank you Sir. I like your robes. Very Gryffindor." She smiled, top lip curling over her slightly to large front teeth. Albus gave her a wink before giving a little twirl.

"and what do you think Professor McGonagall? Gryffindor enough?"

"Yes Professor Dumbledore they are strikingly Gryffindor, what brings you here? Is there something wrong?" Albus was not put of by her flat, almost bitter tone. She was obviously still angry at the bad layout, grammar and wording of this years new textbook.

"No no my dear, nothing is wrong. I was just looking to see what had detained my chess partner." Hermione cupped both hands over her mouth.

"Oh dear, I'm very sorry Sir, Professor I didn't know you…"

"Do not worry yourself Hermione, mine and Professor Dumbledore's chess games are neither scheduled nor are they particularly enthralling. He is a terrible chess player" The last bit was said with a mischievous smile. One which Albus was very used to but Hermione not so much, she didn't comment on it however. "It is getting on a bit though. Perhaps you should be on your way back to the common room Miss Granger."

"Yes Prefessor. Thank you so much for your help. Good evening Sir" Hermione smiled her goodbyes, hastily gathering her things and exiting the office, pulling the door, which now creaked loudly, shut behind her.

"Why is your first year reading three years ahead Minerva?"

"A week back we began discussing the principals of Inanimate-Animate transfiguration. There is a very brief synopsis available in the first years text book, naturally the girl wanted a broader understanding. I recommended the fourth year text book as that is when the knowledge she sought is actually needed." the witch sighed, carefully tidying her desk back to it's original pristine condition. When Minerva looked up at her friend, confusion grew in her gut at the face he was pulling at her.

"What?"

"You called her Hermione" he said smugly holding in a laugh as her face hardened.

"No I did not! I don't call any of our students by their first names." _Not in front of anyone anyway._

"Somebody has gone soft." He trilled in sing-song tune. Instead of waiting for her anger to flare up again he chose to follow Miss Granger's departure out of the door.

"Gone soft" She muttered, shaking her head. Minerva McGonagall had not gone soft. '_Yet'_ a voice echoed within her head.

**Thanks for reading. Christmas is coming to Hogwarts soon :D**


	8. The Build Up To Christmas

**Hello people :D Big thanks to Imagen99 for putting up with my suckishness. Okay, its been longer than i wanted it to be before i updated but... life goes on. College has started up again and what with extra curricular activities and a ridiculous bout of writers block this chapter nearly didnt get done at all. Sorry if it seems a bit rushed. **

**Disclaimer: From now on i'm not writing one at the beginning of every chapter but i am here to tell you with confidence that i am not planning on transforming into JK Rowling any time soon. I will keep you posted just in case though ¬¬**

Professor McGonagall ushered the last of her students onto the platform. The Hogwarts express was packing quickly with children eager to get home to their families for the festive season. The thick snow on the platform had been turned to sleet under many feet. Taking a step out of the crowd she parked herself on the station bench to overlook the frantic boarding.

If it weren't for Minerva's feline senses she might have jumped as a troublesome pair of red headed twins popped up from behind her, one at each shoulder.

"Morning McGonagall!" They said together. Before she could reprimand the playful third years George reached over her shoulder holding a small open box filled with an assortment of coin sized candy wrapped in silver and gold paper. "Sweet?"

Raising an eyebrow, she eyed the box suspiciously before shifting her gaze back to George who was smiling encouragingly.

"And pray tell, what will happen to me should I accept?"

There was a gasp from the Gryffindor boys. Looking at each other with mock outrage Fred began to splutter. "Professor! We're insulted. When have we ever given you cause not to trust us?" George was nodding, the same hurt expression on his face. "We are loyal Gryffindors and would never purposely involve our dear Head of House in a prank."

"Now if you were the slimy git " Fred muttered hatefully under his breath making the corner of the witch's mouth twitch.

"Hmmm, you are right, I can't argue with that but usually you two do not have a 'getaway vehicle' ready and waiting." The twins snickered as she gestured to the Hogwarts express.

"Nah, were sticking around this Christmas, surely you know that professor!"

"Of course I know, I am head of Gryffindor and deputy headmistress, it is my business to know. I just momentarily chose to forget."

"Professor McGonagall, you say that as if you're not ecstatic at the prospect of spending your holiday with your favourite Weasleys!" The smirk on her face was so reminiscent of Snape that the pair eyed her untrustingly and took a few steps back. After a few moments of confusion the lanky boys ran off to the train in search for Lee Jordan's compartment so they could wave their best friend goodbye. Looking up to the milky white sky in a silent prayer Minerva unwrapped the sweet and gingerly put it into her mouth. She couldn't help the smile show on her face as the train began to chug noisily, moving away from the station at a snail's pace. She hadn't blown up or turned into a frog so for now, the Weasley twins would remain detention free. She looked over to them, making sure they were still in her sight, and spotted them waving madly into a particular carriage. In one window Lee waved back while Oliver was miming quidditch manoeuvres for them to practice in his absence; they received the customary curt nod from Minerva and shouted goodbyes from the red headed pair of Weasleys.

The train began to move a little faster; Minerva looked into the compartments as the travelled by. It wasn't until most of the train had left the station that she spied a bushy haired brunette pulling out a tissue for Neville Longbottom who was having a sneezing fit in the chair opposite. Hermione wore a look of concern for the boy opposite her and was holding a familiar looking book in her lap. Minerva hoped that all her students would have a wonderful Christmas, but for some reason especially that particular first year. Surprising herself Minerva shook her head; Favouritism wasn't something that she would ever be tolerant of; she thought of Severus, the reigning king of favouritism. 'Definitely not.' she thought to herself angrily. She was the last left standing on the station and once the train was fully out of site she began her return journey, enjoying the sound of snow crunching under her boots.

The snow soon started again and the Scottish witch was thankful for the warming charm she had placed on her clothes. On the walk back to the majestic castle Minerva passed her colleague, Charity Burbage. She carried with her two small suit cases, one in each hand and she was evidently on her way to the gates to apparate home for the holiday. Momentarily Minerva wished that she did not have to stay at Hogwarts for so much of the two weeks but she quickly remembered that being head of Gryffindor house was one of the things she was most thankful for; she was honoured to be a carer to so many wonderful children. She also knew at home she would become bored and lonely very quickly.  
>Charity smiled widely as she passed. "We shall see you Boxing day Minerva."<p>

"Say hello to Andrew for me." Minerva spoke loudly over her shoulder, both continued to walk in opposite directions. Minerva had not seen Charity's husband Andrew Burbage for a long time. They had attended Hogwarts together and he was a good friend even after all this time. Although Charity was much younger than himself they made a wonderful couple. Charity was a head strong, intelligent but had a wonderfully good nature; Andrew while not quite so intelligent was a brilliant listener and incredibly funny.

"I will, he's looking forward to seeing you again." Her voice became quieter as she continued to walk along the winding path.

"Minerva!" The voice that graced her ears did not belong to the woman she had just turned from.

"Hello Filius!" smiled Charity. Minerva turned to see the small man hurrying along behind her. He bowed his head to the Muggle Studies Professor as he passed her. Once he was in step with the tall witch he breathed a long sigh. Even though Minerva was last to leave the train's platform her long stride and quick gait had allowed her to overtake quite a few people on the way back.

"How many Gryffindors remain at the castle this year?"

"Only five."

"Five more than last year." He mused, not unkindly.

"Are you sure you don't mind looking after them while I am at home? I cannot help but think perhaps I am shirking my responsibilities." Filius shook his head indignantly in protest.

"Not at all Minerva, how many times have you watched not only the Ravenclaws but the Puffs as well so Mona and I can go home for Christmas? No problem all. In fact, considering four of the five are Weasleys it should be an interesting few days." There was a sharp shout from up ahead. Both teachers suppressed their laughter as Professor Quirrell spun wildly around ahead of the pair. Every time he turned his back on the trees either side of the pathway a snowball was pelted into the back of his head. He spun angrily to find where it had come from only to be struck from the other side by another. His turban was wobbling dangerously. Minerva frowned.

Quirrell's anger was growing more ferocious by the second. Plunging his hand into his robes he pulled his wand on the unseen trouble makers. Both witch and wizard rushed forward as the flustered man muttered a spell under his breath. Fred shot out from behind the tree and fell head first into the snow. George jumped out to defend his twin.

"Jeez Professor if you didn't want to get hit with snowballs you shouldn't have started the game!" He shouted angrily. Minerva had to admit, when she had seen Professor Quirrell partaking in that snowball fight between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor first years two years ago she knew it would come back to bite him. Fighting on the side of his own house he had made himself an enemy to the Gryffindor boys, and poor Quirrell had had to deal with the repercussions ever since. He had never seemed to mind all that much; that was not the case now though.

"Professor Quirell?" Minerva questioned him, coming to stand beside the two boys. Her tone was warning and conveyed her message exactly. 'Control yourself' Without a word the wizard straightened his robes and stalked back towards the castle, his cheeked flushed both from the cold and from his anger.

"We knew you loved us really Professor." Fred smirked at his teacher, still sitting in the snow. She shook her head not hiding her amusement.

Once in the entrance hall everyone went their separate ways. The twins went to find their younger brother and his friend Harry Potter. Filius went to the staff room to finish his marking so he could have a reasonably relaxing holiday and Minerva set of for the Gryffindor common room. She had a certain prefect to talk to.

"Mr Weasley" Percy looked up from the wireless. He had been trying to tune it for the last twenty minutes to no avail. All that was emitted from its speakers was crackling static. Minerva waved her wand and instantly music began to play. Percy gave her a lopsided smile before turning it off. Now that it was fixed he would come back to it when his teacher was not around; the idea of listening to music with her made him feel uncomfortable.

"Yes Professor McGonagall?"

"On Christmas eve, Christmas Day and Boxing day, should you need anything, you are to go to Professor Flitwick as I will not be here." She almost laughed at the look of confusion on his face. It was true, she did not have a life outside these stone walls but her students always assumed she never left. It was quite ridiculous. "Oh please don't think less of me. Surely you would grant me time to spend Christmas with my family Mr Weasley?" Realising how he must have looked he quickly stuttered out some words.

"I am sorry professor, I didn't mean- "

"I am pulling your leg Mr Weasley." He laughed nervously at her interuption, eyes flicking to the door and back. Minerva noticed his obvious discomfort and decided to take that as her cue to go. Leaving him to his own devices she turned and left the Gryffindor common room with a small spring in her step.

* * *

><p><strong>CAST YOUR VOTE AT THE END!<strong>

* * *

><p>Hermione's mouth stretched open wide in an epic yawn. Not yet ready to release her dreams she rolled over and buried her face further into her travel pillow.<p>

"Hermione, Come on honey, out you get." Jean Granger pulled open the back left car door and shook her daughter by the shoulders. Once again Hermione stirred but it took another try to finally get her alert enough to clamber from her family's dark blue Toyota. 'She always was a stubborn little miss.' Jean mused happily. It had been a long time since she had last seen her baby, too long. Never had she needed to deal with that level of separation from Hermione before, and it had surprised not only John but herself regarding how hard she had taken it.

After a few hours of sitting in the car all three people were stiff and tired. Holding onto her mother's hand to steady her worn-out form, the pair made their way to the front door which Mr Granger held open for them.

"Straight to bed babe." he said, laying a kiss on her head before bee-lining for the kitchen to make his routine cup of late night Horlicks. Making a cup of tea for herself Jean then followed her daughter upstairs. After having to live with such a distance between herself and her child Jean didn't want to be too far away now that she was back. Standing in the doorway of Hermione's room Jean sipped her cup of tea pensively.

The young witch had replaced her dishevelled and crinkled clothes with a comfortable cotton night dress. Trudging absentmindedly to her bed she flopped onto it, not bothering to get under the covers. If she knew her mother, and she did, the older Granger would not stand for it. After only a few seconds Jean was by her side trying to pull the light purple quilt out from beneath her daughter muttering about a certain young woman's laziness. Hermione remained a dead weight, defiant to her mother's request to roll over.

David Granger looked up at the ceiling shaking his head. The shrieks that his daughter was making carried loudly to the kitchen. He wished his wife wouldn't tickle the poor, ridiculously ticklish girl so late; the neighbours had a new baby and it would be more considerate of them to keep the noise down. The hysterical laughter punctuated by high pitched wails stopped instantly and the man momentarily mused the he might be magic to. He made a mental note to ask Hermione if witches and wizards were telepathic. He blushed; struck by the notion that if his daughter replied yes he would have to think about his gorgeous wife's shapely butt a hell of a lot less.

In her room, Hermione was catching her breath back, still glaring at her mum from beneath her covers. Still smiling and slightly flushed herself from all the excitement Jean kneeled down beside her daughters bed. Reaching out a hand she casually stroked the thick and unruly brown hair her daughter had inherited. It would calm down as she got older, the same as her mothers had.

"I missed you baby." Hermione's glare disappeared. Her mum was smiling but at the same time looked so sad.

"I missed you to mum. So much." nodding reassuringly she motioned for her mother to join her on the bed. With a sigh Jean pulled herself up and sat on the quilt beside her daughter, wrapping her arm around her protectively. The younger Granger rested her tired head on the elder's shoulder. A comfortably cosiness encompassed them both; it was what had been missing from the last few months.

"I must admit I have been rather selfish. I was secretly hoping you would hate it there so you could come home. The house has been so empty without you; and to think, some people stay for the holidays too. I don't think I could survive not seeing you for nine months. Even when you're a fully grown woman with a family, I expect a visit from you at least once a fortnight, no exceptions. Even when you have stuck your father and I in a retirement home, okay?" The pair giggled though both knew how very truthful Jean was being; she meant every word she had just said.

"Okay mum." Hermione didn't address the fact that she would never put her parents in a retirement home. "Most of my friends are staying for Christmas this year." A beaming smile covered Jeans face, it was almost identical to the one Hermione wore quite often, the resemblance between the two being quite uncanny.

"Friends huh?" Hermione blushed, her shoulders coming up to her ears. Trying to wipe the pride from her face she sat up and looked at her mum excitedly.

"I have friends." She stated very matter-of-factly though still not quite believing it herself. "And they aren't just people that tolerate me being around or tagging along. They are actual friends."

"What are their names?" Jean asked.

"Neville Longbottom..." Jean couldn't hide her grimace from her daughter who frowned in response, insulted. "MUM! THEY AREN'T IMAGINARY!" Jean shrugged a little taken aback by her daughter's quick and very correct deduction.

"Honey, you have to admit, that name sounds pretty made up."

"Well that's not my fault!" Hermione huffed falling back into her pillows.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Please, carry on." After a moment of silent communication, in which Jean promised not to doubt her again, the smile returned and Hermione sat up again.

"So, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley... Dean Thomas Kind of, I mean we are friendly and I help him with his homework but he is more Ron's Friend than mine. Fred and George are really fun and they walk me to lunch sometimes if I've missed Harry and Ron but Seamus Fin..."

"Hermione..." Hermione looked up at her mother in confusion.

"Yeah?"

"Those all sound like boy's names to me."

"Yes and?"

"I think, perhaps we need to have a little chat."

"NO! EEWERRRRR! Gosh mum, not yet. Obviously we are going to have the chat at some point" She muttered the last bit resentfully. She wasn't particularly looking forward to talking about those sort of relationships with her mother. "But not yet, not till I'm..."

"45"

"13" they said together... both mouth's dropped at the others answer.

"45?"

"13!" They shouted simultaneously, this time the numbers said by the person that had not said it previously.

"Fine," Hermione said looking at her mother incredulously. "14."

"I tell you what Hermione, I will compromise. 25, take it or leave it." Hermione shook her head at her mother's antics. She sighed, nodding her pretend agreement. "You can tell me all about your friends in the morning. Perhaps you could make up a few girl's names, for your father's sake." Jean laid a kiss on Hermione's forehead where her dad had left one earlier."Good-night Pumpkin."

Hermione's face contorted into an expression somewhere between amusement and disgust as Jean made her way over to the door. A questioning gaze quizzed the young witch for an explanation, blindly feeling for the light switch. "Mum, please don't call me that. I had a terrible Halloween."

* * *

><p>The days had passed quickly but not everyone in the Granger house was unhappy about it. Not only was Hermione looking forward to Christmas day but also to returning to Hogwarts, seeing her friends and teachers, being able to use magic again and of course the library. As much as she loved to be home with her parents, they would always be there and while she was away from the world she had come to love so much the students still residing in those hallowed halls could be surpassing her. She doubted it as most kids her age completely neglected their studies over the holidays but it was possible.<p>

Jean could tell. She had been making every effort to engage Hermione but she now cursed the trait in her daughter that she had once treasured above most of the others. Being so incredibly bright the girl was hard to keep occupied for long and Jean feared that soon she would begin to associate home with boredom.

Right now though the small family were settling down in the living room; Hermione nattered away about something or other. David seemed to be paying close attention so Jean let her mind wander. They had just returned home after visiting her mother in hospital and she seemed better today. Annie Chambers had Alzheimer's and the slow deterioration of the poor woman's mind was heart breaking. She was only in her early sixty's but the illness was progressing steadily. Jean sighed; at least she had recognised them all today.

Hermione had been wonderful with her. The pair had sat together as they used to when the girl was just a toddler, trading stories and jokes. Jean had laughed when her mother had told her 'what a great imagination Hermione had' she had muttered something about talking hats and moving staircases but it had been hard to catch. Jean was pulled from her thoughts by David who sighed loudly.

"Hermione love " Hermione looked up from the book Professor McGonagall had allowed her to borrow over Christmas a little cautiously. She could tell from his slightly raised voice and somewhat pointed tone that he wasn't happy about something. To most children this would not have been worrying at all, hell they probably wouldn't have noticed it was so slight but to Hermione 'the tone' had hardly ever been used on her and it was a little distressing.

She was put at ease right away as her father was wearing a timid smile. He hadn't meant to raise his voice.

"Yes?"

"Hermione, don't get me wrong dear. I love that you are special. I've always known you were magical, ever since I held you for the first time." A moment of silence passed. Jean smiled at her husband; she was pleased her daughter had a better father than she ever could have dreamed. "But darling it would be nice if while you were home, you didn't refer to us as Muggles."

Hermione hadn't even realised she had been. Looking down at her book she frowned at her own insensitivity. Seeing Hermione disappointed in herself was a sight both parents hated but Jean was the first to speak.

"We don't mind love. It's just that Muggle isn't the nicest sounding word in the dictionary." She frowned, was it even in the dictionary? "It isn't in the dictionary is it?" Hermione chuckled quietly from behind her book. "We know it isn't an insult and that you don't mean anything by it..."

"Perhaps you could just call witches and wizards magical people when we have to be aware of the difference." David continued.

"Okay." Hermione smiled. "What are we doing with the rest of the day mum?" Noticing the swift change in subject her parents knew to leave that conversation well enough alone.

"I thought we could get the Christmas decorations up soon. You probably haven't seen what your fathers done outside as we haven't turned the lights on, but he's finished that already. We can do the tree together if you want." Jean looked hopeful. Hermione had never really taken much interest in dressing the tree. She had always been far too logical to enjoy it, claiming that considering her height and limited arm span she was much more of a hindrance than a help.

There was a long pause in which Hermione thought about it. The Grangers could see the cogs turning behind her eyes.

"But you always do it so wonderfully mum." Hermione could see her Mother's disappointment even though she tried valiantly to hide it. "You're sure I won't mess it up?" Jeans eyebrows climbed her head in surprise.

"Yes. I'm very sure." she choked out, beaming excitedly.

"Alright then. But Dad, you're going to have to lift me to put the star on top. Really, its times like these when you need a levitation charm. If I was allowed I could spell it up there. Wingardium leviosa." Hermione did the wand movement even though it was in its carry case under her pillow. Jean was already hopping up the stairs towards the loft door and so didn't notice Hermione's reminiscent sigh.

In only a few hours the three Grangers stood back and looked at their handy work. It was pretty darn good even if they did say so themselves.

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><p><strong>CAST YOUR VOTE AT THE END!<strong>

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><p>Somewhere, in the snow-covered moors of Scotland a similar scene was taking place. Minerva wiped a few beads of sweat of her brow, somewhat pleased at her accomplishment. She had only a few hours at home before her head of house duties required her back at Hogwarts and so preparations for Christmas had been squeezed into a very brief amount of time compared to the norm. Minerva had sworn to uphold her standards and deliver the usual care and attention she poured into her decorations; and she was quite pleased with the results.<p>

Taking a few steps back she stared, head tilted to one side. Minerva glanced at the stately grandfather clock with a grimace.

"What do you think Laina?" At her question an elf wearing a small black dress stuck it's head round the door. It sighed quietly before trotting in to join the witch who stood in the centre of her living room. The elf made sure to look at everything; the tree, the hearth, the placing of the presents. Minerva watched nervously waiting for a verdict from the tiny creature. After making her rounds the smaller than average elf turned to her Mistress and spoke with absolute sincerity.

"Perfect as always Mistress." Minerva smiled uncertainly, looking back to the enormous tree that was glittered with magnificent looking baubles and magical figurines. The elf smiled as a very old and very familiar herd of glass deer moved cautiously amongst the vibrant green needles of the tree. A tree that until yesterday had stood tall and proud amongst its brothers and sisters in the skirting woods of the McGonagall estate. She had seen this tree and felt it a worthy pine; she should have felt it a troublesome one however, it had not been very willing to leave the forest or its roots behind.

"Hmmm." It was obvious that the Mistress was not convinced. "Are you quite sure? You are not just saying it to make me feel better?" Before the elf could show her outrage Minerva sighed loudly, falling backwards onto the plush cream sofa. Reaching out she plucked the chocolate brown, silk cushion and placed it on her stomach, crossing long, thin arms around it while eyeing her Christmas display analytically. "Because I don't think it is as good as last years." She couldn't put her finger on what was wrong but something was out of place. With a flick of her wand heat-proof sparkling icicles grew along the marble mantle of the fireplace.

"Mistress Minerva. When have I ever lied to you? Since I was employed in your home, when you were a little bigger than I am now, I have always given my frank and honest opinion when it was asked for." Both the witch and the elf relived a fond memory of the teenage witch picking her graduation gown. The small elf had been brutally honest and Minerva had always been thankful. She had not had anyone else to offer an opinion at the time; Laina was now more than just her head elf, she was a companion, a friend. "Besides, I didn't like last years."

Amber eyes stared down outraged emerald ones; though the green were half the size they made up for it with extreme ferocity.

"What do you mean you didn't like last years? What happened to frank and honest opinions? You didn't say anything!" The elf shrugged closing her long, spindly fingers around a thick, leather bound book that sat on the coffee table. She would place it back in the library when this coversation ended.

"When asked Mistress, you didn't ask for it then." In a huff now Minerva furrowed her brow, thinking back and picturing the previous Christmas decorations. Peering at Laina from beneath close knit eyebrows the witch sat back in her seat thinking.

"What was wrong with it?" The elf sighed and shook her head. "No, no, come on. What was wrong with it?"

"There was nothing particularly wrong with it Mistress, in truth I thought it to be too perfect."

"Honestly Laina, how can anything be too perfect?" Giving an exasperated sigh the elf placed down the book, realising this would be a long talk and hopped up onto the sofa to sit down. Many of her kind thought it strange, how human she had become under the employment of this noble family. Her cousin Tilly had almost choked when visiting for the first time. Seeing Laina sat down reading on the sofa with her mistress in the room had been far too much for her little head to take. Tilly could not read; unlike the McGonagalls her Human family did not think it necessary for her to receive a proper education. This was not to say they were unkind, they were wonderful, but not many people were like the McGonagall family.

"Mistress would say that, as you have always strived for perfection. You are the biggest perfectionist I have had the pleasure to be acquainted with." She tilted her head in thought. " It was so thought out, everything was so placed that it did not feel as though it belonged in an ordinary home. A display window of a shop or a magazine spread perhaps but not in a home. There is a fine line between a thing of beauty." The elf gestured to the scene around them. "And something so perfect we are afraid to touch should we disturb the balance and ruin it." Minerva sighed, still not convinced.

"Fabien." She called, not having to look at the elf to know that she was rolling her eyes. A bigger elf wearing a slightly faded brown suit popped into existence.

"Yes Mistress" He said moving to take Laina's hand as she wiggled to the edge of the sofa to jump off the edge.

"Do you like it?" Unlike Laina the elf barely looked around before declaring he did, very much so. Though he claimed the same as his superior elf, which was he would answer all questions put to him honestly, Minerva couldn't help but think he just told her what he believed she wanted to hear. "Better than last years?" This time he did take a long moment to look about the room.

"Last years was very beautiful-" He was cut off by Laina who was shaking her head agitatedly.

"-He has no taste Mistress, I wouldn't trust his judgement."

"If you would let me finish." Laina looked down at the wooden floor panels slightly taken aback. It was not like him to use such a tone. "I much prefer this. It feels warm and inviting. I will admit even I was weary of moving anything last year for fear of upsetting someone." Laina looked at him with a proud smile on her face. He spied her, still a little put down by her earlier comment. "See." he whispered. Her big, bat-like ears pricked at the sound. A small, almost un-noticeable smile graced his features. "I don't just have good taste for picking life partners you know." With that he popped back to the kitchens.

Minerva smirked at Laina who was blushing ferociously and trying her hardest not to giggle. 'Blimey Laina. You are an old elf, what has come over you?'she thought to herself. Fabien had a way of making her feel giddy and childish. However this reverie was quickly dissipated as her Mistress' smirk came into view. The elf coughed once to regain her composure.

"Fine, if you two like it then I shall leave it well enough alone. Are you spending Christmas here this year?" Big amber eyes looked down, slightly ashamed of herself. Every year Minerva asked and every year the answer was yes, apart from this one which would be perhaps the first of many.

"Actually Mistress, We were planning on visiting Fabien's family on his mother's side if that is alright"

"Of course it is alright. Laina your Christmas is your own; you choose how you spend it. But my dear I must ask that you warn me if we are to be expecting little elves running about."

"Mistress, I am for too old for those sorts of shenanigans" The elf was beet red not letting her eyes leave the carpet. Though Minerva was her friend and it had been made clear to her over the years by the woman herself, she was still the mistress and Laina didn't feel at all comfortable talking about this particular... intimate subject.

"How old was your mother when she had you ?"

"That's not the point." The tone was blunt and Minerva could see that the elf didn't wish to talk about it. She hoped that the pair did have some children, which would be nice.

"Alright, then I shall leave it alone for now. Are we done preparing for the guests?" Pleased with the more professional topic the elf looked up from the floor with a small smile on her face.

"Yes Mistress. Master Dumbledore's room is all ready for him should he arrive earlier than Christmas Eve, as arranged, and we are fully stocked for the Boxing Day staff celebration."

"Good, let's hope this year's party is a better one than last years. Whoever nominated Severus to host deserves to be hexed." The host of the staff party was decided by putting names into the sorting hat and whichever name was spat out had to play the party planner. Severus never put his name in as he had no desire to do it but someone had planted his name in there. Minerva had her bet on Sybil. Albus thought Rolanda but she had sworn to Minerva that she hadn't been behind it, also using logic to prove her innocence. "Any part planed by old Grumpy guts over here is going to be rubbish... why would this party animal get a crack out of a rubbish party?" Severus hadn't been at all insulted, instead agreeing with her whole-heartedly.

"All shall be well Mistress."

"Oh, and Laina. On Boxing Day, before the staff arrives could you please lock the door to the chess room? I don't want Rolanda getting in there in a drunken stupor and confusing my pieces again." It had taken days to convince her terrified knights that there were no bludgers in the game of chess. There was nothing quite as pitiful as a giant soldier made of black marble clad in intricate silver armour crying like a baby. His horse had seemed equally unimpressed by its rider's buffoonery and so decided it would not listen to instructions and instead go where it liked. That had been the first time in many years that Albus had 'won' one of their chess matches. And to her irritation, he still wouldn't acknowledge that his horse charging in every direction, trampling innocent pieces did not constitute an actual win.

* * *

><p>Hermione stared resentfully at the ceiling. Christmas Eve was not a night where sleep came easily and counting sheep was getting ridiculous. She had reached four digit figures a while back and her restlessness was frustrating her to the extreme. Hermione listened tentatively as her parents crept around downstairs placing presents beneath the tree. It was a wonderful thing when she was younger, to wake up Christmas morning, run downstairs and find what had not been there the night before. Even now she could feel the excitement growing in her gut.<p>

She wondered what her parents would make of her presents; their first real insight into the magical world. Hermione didn't think about what she would receive tomorrow afternoon, no doubt some books or new paint or maybe some money, the same thing she got every year. She wasn't ungrateful. They were practical and though they didn't excite her she did get enjoyment out of them.

After a long time of lying awake Hermione rolled onto her side. There was only one thing for it. Turning on the lamp that sat on the bedside table she grabbed the first book that came into her reach. Squinting in the darkness she made out the title and smiled. She wondered whether CS Lewis was a wizard. She hoped he wasn't because it would slightly take away from his creative genius but it would make a lot of sense. She began to read; absorbed by the thought that one day she could have adventures like these, discovering amazing creatures, fighting terrible foes. She doubted it but she could dream well not right now as sleep seemed impossible, but on a more normal night perhaps.

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><p><strong>VOTE!<strong>

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><p><em>In a lower level corridor of Hogwarts school there was only the sound of leather boots on the cold stone floor. Aside from the steady and unyielding tempo there was nothing but silence. The middle aged wizard wouldn't have been able to see an inch ahead of him if it weren't from the lustrous glow emitted from the tip of his firmly held wand.<em>  
><em>Stepping through the portrait into the hall that held his quarters he allowed the luminescence to fade away leaving the vacated corridor benighted. Whilst walking over to the furthest door, his thoughts wavered back to how soundless the usually jubilant castle was; he couldn't help the dull panic that was settling on his chest as his empty hand reached blindly for the handle to the rooms beyond.<em>

_A soothing calm washed over his buzzing senses as the wizard's body was bathed in warm candle light. Without a thought he shrugged of his cloak and discarded his hat onto the battered brown sofa. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as the man sank exhausted into his armchair; sleep claimed him quickly._  
><em>A flash. He awoke, looking for the source. Seeing nothing he again relaxed. Perhaps a flicker from the roaring fire had disturbed his slumber. A pulse. Maybe a house elf with midnight chores to do. It was not like him to be this slow. If it weren't for the ludicrously taxing day he had endured earlier he would have already been alert and prepared at the slightest shift in normalcy. Alas today, tonight, it was not till the first whimper sounded that he sprung to his feet. Even if he had been up to his usual standard he would not have been prepared for the scene he was unwittingly thrust into.<em>

_He stopped in his tracks, staring disbelievingly at the sight before him, not able to process what his eyes were taking in. Not everything was visible; he could not see her face nor the face of the body she clung to with all her strength._

_"Professor Dumbledore" The woman, no girl, whispered; her long dark hair falling untied over her face and onto the chest of the stationary third party._  
><em>Albus couldn't move. Every solitary muscle screamed out for instruction but somewhere on route from his brain all chemical messages were lost, vanished as if never sent.<em>

_"Professor!" She cried it this time as her delicate, porcelain hands worked desperately to plug several bleeding holes in the other's chest and neck. Her ivory skin was stained almost black as the thick crimson liquid gushed unceasingly into the interwoven threads of the sky blue carpet._

_The girl took a fleeting moment to let her hands stop their compressions to push her ebony locks back out of her eyes, not caring at the gruesome transfer of blood into it's strands._  
><em>For the first time since this horrifying scene began, since the pair materialised in Dumbledore's rooms, signs of life were displayed by the injured person. It was a woman, her once expensive and intricate robes destroyed, not only by the blood but shredded from whatever curses had struck her hard. Her hair was not lose but held tightly in a bun on top of her head; even in her broken state no strands hung lose around her face.<em>

_A restrained splutter sounded as she tried unsuccessfully to breathe, instead chocking on the life force that bled into her lungs. Her heart breaking coughs dispersed hundreds of tiny glimmering droplets into the air, splattering all around. Finally as he stood still, the index finger of her left hand twitched once and the body moved no more._

_Both occupants of the room stilled; the corpse's glassy blue eyes stared unseeingly into the fire. The eyes were dead but still piercing and for what felt like hours the living waited for something to happen, for them to blink, to move, to shine with life again but they did not. The frozen scene was only broken by a jagged inhale from the kneeling girl. Not allowing her sobs to leave her quivering body she shook her head in denial. Reaching forward she took the hold of the limp form, cradling it in her lap and whispering inaudible words, barely moving her lips._

_Her movements became hectic and uncalculated, tears seeping from beneath her lids and running down her face washing away small traces of blood as they went. Finally, after the longest seconds of his life, for it had not been a minute since he woke in his chair Albus took a step._

_Shaken from her feverish movements by the man's motion the girl looked up for the first time. Green orbs filled with hate stared up at him, burned into him and once again he was static. He watched as hate turned to pain, to sorrow, anguish; so much was there all at the same time, so many raw and uncontrollable emotions were raging inside the girl._

_"You did nothing" She hissed still staring down upon the woman she held in her small arms. She waited for his response, and when none came she cried again. "YOU DID NOTHING!"_

Those words were the ones that finally woke Albus Dumbledore from his nightmare. He shot bolt upright, pulling his rough, calloused hands to wipe the beads of sweat that had oozed through every pore of his face leaving a clammy sheen. After taking another moment to wipe away a tear he reached for his wand and summoned his slippers very aware that sleep could not be attempted again. Not while the 13 year old Minerva haunted his dreams.

The woman herself was surprised to see him enter the kitchen at such a ridiculous time. He hadn't noticed her standing there and so proceeded to step clumsily over the bench to sit down, stretching his weary legs under the table.

"Albus" Minerva's concerned voice made him jump but he smiled all the same. "What are you doing awake?" He looked older than he had in years and it pained her to see him this way. Albus placed his elbows on the wooden surface, interlacing his fingers so to make a perch for his chin. Leaning on his hands he continued to look at his dearest friend.

"My Dear, I might ask you the very same question. Though I fear our answers may also be the same." Minerva looked down at the floor tiles. She knew exactly to what he spoke of and indeed, the same dream from a different perspective was the dream that kept her from her bed. What could she say? So many things, which to him would not make a bit of difference. For years she had tried to console him but Minerva had come to find that Albus Dumbledore was often inconsolable though he did not show it to many. "Min," He shook his head. Had it always been that heavy? And if the weight was due to brain size why could he not find the words he wanted? Words had always come easily to him; that had always been a comfort but now he felt deserted, his silver tongue had nothing left to give. "I "

"Don't." The tall witch glided over to where he sat. Though she had just inhaled a very strong cup of tea she did not have the energy to clamber over the bench to join him at the table, instead she perched on it facing the opposite way to him. She was tired of him apologising for something that had happened more than half a century ago. She grew weary of watching him battling when still, after all this time he wouldn't forgive himself. She thought of the many times he had asked her forgiveness and how each and every time she would tell him, how could she? When there was nothing to forgive but still his guilt went unperturbed. An elegant but powerful hand came to rest upon his shoulder. "There was nothing that you could have done. Whether my elf had taken us to you or the most accomplished healer on the planet my mother didn't have a chance. You know that as well as I and it pains me that you still don't believe it."

"I stood there, watching you battle and did nothing. Frozen like a helpless infant." His anger ebbed away as her chin to came to rest on top of her hand, the same hand that still sat on his shoulder. She stared out through the open door he had entered through into the hallway not wanting to look at him. His eyes were wonderful but they were also awful in the way that they showed everything. She didn't want to have to feel his pain, his guilt, his anger; not today. That didn't stop him from looking at her though. She held such sadness within herself and he wished so much that he could help but she kept things so deep, locked away, unreachable.

"It wasn't your fault" She whispered, the words slightly clipped due to her Scottish brogue thickening. Removing her head the hand on his shoulder patted twice before delivering once last comforting squeeze.

Standing up Minerva made her way to the door, tightening the chord of her dressing gown as she went. Albus smiled again as her silhouette was cast across the room. He turned his head to see her standing in the doorway shrouded in light from the entrance hall.

"Go to sleep Albus for today is Christmas. A day to be enjoyed with the people we love. Neither of us will enjoy it if we are fighting ourselves to stay conscious..." A mischievous smile played on her face casting it's own sort of magic; years seemed to disappear before his eyes as she continued to speak softly. "Besides, the sooner we are asleep, the sooner we shall wake, the sooner we can begin the gift exchange!" It never failed to amuse him how much Minerva loved Christmas. Considering she was the last of her family still living she took it in her stride and continued to love the holiday, not looking on it as a day of mourning like so many others would do but as the celebration it was. He could think of a few Hogwarts students who would be more than shocked to see their strict and emotionless Professor McGonagall getting as, if not more, excited than a small child on Christmas morning.

"Indeed, you are right. We shall reconvene at a more appropriate hour. "

"There is a dreamless sleep draft in the cabinet in your bathroom. Goodnight." She swept from the room at the same pace she normally moved at. Perhaps it seemed faster because he was so fatigued.

"Goodnight." He replied softly. But she had already ascended the stairs to her room.

**Okay, so your probably wondering... wtf, vote for what? well, i cant decide whether i want some MMADness in this story. That is what i want you to vote on, i love them... they are so cute but i notice alot of MMHG family fics have MMAD in them so i wanted to know what you want me to do. Should they or shouldnt they. I will say if it's yes they arnt gonna randomly jump on each other... its gonna take a while. So, leave your vote in the comments (People who arnt logged in can vote to... just to let you know) If more than half of the people that have story alerted/ favourited vote :D we want some Prefessor lovin then i will lovingly work them into the story. If it is less than half then Minerva and Albus will have to walk the bumpy road to love separately. **

**Thanks for reading :D as always, hope you enjoyed. **


	9. Christmas Gifts

**AN- Hey all :D To anyone who is still interested and reading I am so... so... so so so sorry that this took this long. And i apologise for the chapters yet to come. though i hope to never take this long again posting a chap for this story I have literally no free time now a days ¬¬ Its lame! Im not happy but then im never happy so I think this will be my last Long chapter... maybe try shorter ones more often but we will see how it goes. Okay... i was quite amazed at the result of my voting last chapter... Both for and against got exactly the same... there wasnt even a vote in it! So im gonna just do what i had planned originally. This is about our witches! and im feeling a family bond between Min and Al... I see a more Sis and Bro kinda dealy with them but whatever. It'll get clearer as we go :D **

**Thanks to anyone that reads, even more to anyone that reviews and big... BIG BIG THANKS to Imagen99 my wonderful beta :D Thanks for your help.**

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><p>The air was so cold that every breath was like being plunged into a freezing bath. The thick sheet of perfect, untouched snow reflected the sun's glare into her eyes making the middle aged witch squint. The snow beckoned, begging to be ruined under foot. She shuffled uncomfortably, trying to resist the urge to oblige. <em>No!<em> Minerva shook her head indignantly; No matter how enticing the snow looked she would wait for her partner in crime. At the sound of approaching footsteps she took an excited inhale, allowing a broad grin to sidle it's way across her usually stern features. Jumping into place beside the weather resistant looking witch Albus Dumbledore fumbled with the thick woollen scarf around his neck.

Minerva tutted loudly; her intolerance for his slow movement was growing by the second. She was and had been ready for the snow for almost an hour. The slender witch was clad in her thickest winter cloak; wore her tartan scarf and usual sturdy black boots. Each item mentioned had been permeated with a powerful warming charm. You could never be too careful when braving the harsh Scottish winter; because if you didn't want to get sick, you got wrapped up.

With a sigh she turned towards her dearest friend. Swatting his tired, clumsy hands away Minerva pulled of the red and gold material from around his neck. It clashed horrendously with his lime green travelling cloak but then Albus had always had a terrible taste in clothes. Frowning impatiently she folded the scarf lengthways and held it up, waiting for him to bend low enough for her to easily hook it over his neck. Moving his long white beard aside, the ends of the scarf were threaded together into a tight but breathable knot. The witch preceded to tuck both the ends and his beard into the neck whole of his cloak. Once the lady had finished Dumbledore nodded triumphantly, as though he had done the whole thing himself.

"Ready now?" She asked with mock exasperation. Albus smiled. It was amusing to him how much this woman, a woman more than half a century his junior acted so much like a mother to him sometimes. He had to admit though, his neck never felt so warm as when Minerva tied his scarf.

"Born ready Professor" He replied, extending his arm for her to take. After an amused roll of her teal green eyes the tall witch linked arms with her best friend and practically dragged him though the back door into the frozen landscape that had been the grounds of her home.

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><p>Minerva stood up straight again. She smiled, pleased that the enchantment cast by her father all those years ago had held for so long. The rose bushes that surrounded her garden were magical and bloomed the most beautiful, vibrant flowers throughout the year. They really did add something special; the contrast of their passionate crimson petals with the white wonderland they grew in was really very captivating. She couldn't smell them though, her nose was frozen and she had no doubt her face was a red that could put the roses to shame. Minerva was too busy admiring her father's handy work to notice the soft crunching sound that broke the quiet. She reached out a hand, letting her fingertips smooth over a pointed leaf.<em> 'How peaceful'<em>

The stoic woman gasped as something hard hit her in the back of the head. It didn't hurt but it was a shock as flakes of the shattered snowball came into contact with the exposed skin on the back of her neck.

The transfiguration mistress turned about slowly, eyebrow raised, daring the attacker to try it again. This time, as the perfectly crafted sphere of white flew with alarming quickness towards her face Minerva lifted her left hand. The snowball careened onto an invisible wall a foot or so from her person and fell to the floor, shattered into a million pieces.

Albus smiled again. On leaving the house this morning both knew it was only a matter of time before this would happen, before war would commence. He waited for her to make her move, which was sure to be spectacular; she was not the sort of witch to be out done. In the short moment that he had been reflecting on earlier battles such as this one she had pulled her wand from inside her cloak.

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><p>This Christmas morning Hermione broke the well thought out routine she had religiously abided by for the last eight years. Instead of racing into her parents room at an obscene hour in the morning she waited for a while. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of pretending to sleep, her alarm clock sounded. The little silver hammer struck back and forth between the two bells it sat beside. With a relieved smile the girl reached out and flicked the switch on the back, halting the noise after only a second or two of it starting.<p>

A contented sigh escaped as she shuffled over to her drawers. Pulling a big, cosy blanket from within the bottom compartment she held it to her face, not only taking comfort in it's softness but the clean, just washed smell. Placing it over her shoulder Hermione wandered back to her bed and reached under it. When she withdrew her hand she clutched a black rucksack. Taking a last look at her room the young witch made her way downstairs, carefully avoiding the loose floor board on the landing and the squeaky third step from the bottom.

Padding silently into the front room she shrugged the blanket off her shoulder onto the sofa. All attention was on the black rucksack she now held in both hands. Sitting cross-legged in front of the Christmas tree that her Mother and herself had decorated together Hermione unzipped the main section. Inside were all her presents, all the presents she had gottenr for her family. For some unknown reason her thoughts flitted to Professor McGonagall. Was she awake already? Hermione thought she would be. The Transfiguration teacher didn't have a present in the bag, that would have been bad planning on Hermione's part. How would the woman open it if it was here? The Gryffindor girl had given it to the Headmaster for her, so she could have her gift on Christmas day. Even better than that, Hermione didn't have to muster the courage to deliver it herself.

Reaching inside, Hermione pulled out three parcels, each present wrapped in blue paper with a soft white ribbon tied around it. She thought they looked nice; simple and inviting. She didn't like to make a fuss over them like her parents did. They always bought bright paper with garish print, glitter and tinsel. Hermione much preferred the neat and professional feel her presents gave. She placed them under the tree in seemingly random but secretly well thought out places, nestled amongst the others already there. Once done Hermione stood up and took another look. She was about to reach down to reposition the thin, A4 sized rectangular present that was destined for her Nan when she shook her head. Nobody would care where they were placed as long as they got a present. With that thought in mind she headed to the kitchen for the next stage of her altered Christmas day routine.

Her plan didn't run as smoothly as she would have liked. Her mum had placed the egg carton on the highest shelf in the cupboard. After climbing into a precarious position to procure them Hermione had banged, clattered and thudded her way back down. She knew it was only a matter of time now before she was joined by her parents.

Sure enough as she decanted an absurd amount of scrabbled eggs into a serving bowl and placed it under the grill her father stumbled into the kitchen. Still bleary eyed from his sleep he stretched his lengthy, strong arms above his head, vertebrae clicking audibly one by one. Turning from the stove with a greeting smile Hermione made her way over to give him a hug.

"Merry Christmas Dad." He was momentarily shocked as her arms closed around his middle. He had kept his tired eyes tight shut as he yawned and had not seen her coming. By the time she buried her head into his chest he had quite gotten over himself.

"Merry Christmas Poppet" He said laying a kiss in her thick, brown hair. They broke apart but stayed close together, both making there way back over to the oven. They didn't need to speak to collaborate a plan of action. They would make the traditional Granger Christmas breakfast before Jean noticed John's absence and forced herself out of bed to join them.

They worked in happy silence until John got his first glimpse out of the kitchen window into the frost covered garden.

"Darn it. No snow." He had bet his boss there would be a white Christmas this year. _£20 down the drain_ he thought resentfully. "Right, pass me the salmon." Hermione didn't look away from the bacon she was grilling as she reached out snagging the plastic container of smoked fish. Passing it across the counter she used her other hand to reach up and get him a knife from the utensil block. Chopping the pink slices into small slivers he looked across to his daughter. "Are you coming with us to pick up Nanny?"

Hermione nodded. She missed seeing her the oldest Granger everyday. (Well, really she wasn't a Granger, she was a Chambers, Jeans maiden name but whenever Hermione's Mum and Dad talked about her she was either Mum, the oldest Granger or Nanny Annie.) Annie lived a few streets up and had lived in that house for over forty years. Hermione would often pop in on the way home from her Primary school.

The youngest Granger's thoughts flitted over to the presents she had gotten her family, hoping her Nan wouldn't be to disappointed to receive a normal, non-magic present. Hermione had thought it too risky to get her anything magic with her spending so much time in hospital.

"Why didn't anybody wake me? It's Christmas day and I nearly missed it!" Jean bounded in with a wide smile. Her thick, light purple dressing gown was left untied and she regretted not fastening it as a chill quickly entered her loose fitting pyjamas. Scrambling to rectify her mistake by tying the sash up nice and tight she missed Hermione's rolling eyes.

"It's only 8:42 Mum." Jean let out a snort.

"Well, haven't we grown up. Wasn't it last year that you were in our room at 5:06 whining that the day would be done if we didn't get up straight away?" Hermione blushed at her mother's raised eyebrows and both parents began to laugh. "Is breakfast nearly done? Or would you like some help?"

"No no." John shook his head, looking back to the scrambled eggs he was stirring chopped salmon into.

"Fine, then I will leave this in your very capable hands and open my presents." The shouts of protest that followed her out of the kitchen made her smile widen.

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><p>Meanwhile, in the rolling hills of Scotland thousands of individual snowflakes swirled into something similar to a tornado in front of a Scottish witch. It wasn't moving very fast but it circled all the same, continuing to spin as more and more snow was pulled into the spiralling vortex. And then, with a flick of her wand the snow fell with a crunch to the ground. Albus raised his eyebrow thinking that this show of magic had come to quite an anti-climax but he caught himself quickly. Minerva was not an anti-climax sort of woman.<p>

Her eyes were half lidded. She was concentrating hard on the tiny water crystals; Holding tightly to the hilt she moved her dark mahogany wand in intricate patterns. Albus took a step closer, his curiosity peaking. Incantation complete Minerva took a step back, a smile growing on her thin lips. With one last look at the snow she raised her arms above her head in a slow, upward motion and as she did Albus looked into the white upon the floor as it twitched and jumped. He let out a sound somewhere between a cough, gasp and a laugh. Growing from the snow was a strangely unidentifiable figure.

First it was just a shape, with no features or distinguishable traits but the traits began to grow as if crafted into the creature's frozen body by invisible hands. Soon it had eyes, legs and teeth all sparkling with the shimmering snow it was born from. Within moments large ghostly eyes stared down at Albus Dumbledore, waiting for the tall, mischievous witch behind it to give the order to charge. Albus also looked to Minerva, eyes silently begging her to keep the beautiful creation at bay but he could tell from the glint in emerald orbs she was not feeling merciful today.

"Merry Christmas Albus." The innocent smile on her face was so convincing that if he had not seen her wand jut to the left himself he would not have believed that she had done the deed.

The ice bear lumbered forward. A frightful roar escaped its mighty jaws. From the way it weaved it's head and began to circle him Albus could tell this was no playful polar bear. He didn't have much time to think about it as a gigantic paw took a swipe at him and though the beast was made of snow it was far from delicate. Ducking with speed that most would not believe he possessed Albus reached for his own wand.

A bank of ice grew between the attacking bear and the white haired wizard. As it began to beat its strong, rolling shoulders unceasingly against Dumbledore's barricade the man took some steps back to create a plan of action.

Before long the witch and wizard were left watching in silent amusement. In front of them a polar bear made of snow fought gallantly against six tired looking snow-penguins. Each time the bear pounced for one of Albus' distractions they melted into nothing only to rise from the ground somewhere else. Seeing that her player was growing tired and seeing as Minerva didn't wish to win badly enough to create another warrior to join the fight she turned to Albus.

"I'm bored of this game. Shall we go inside?"

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><p>"Hi Nana." Annie opened her eyes and looked at her granddaughter with a sleepy smile. Shifting slightly in the comfy armchair she jumped as the book she had been reading before falling asleep dropped from it's perch on her stomach to the floor. "Merry Christmas" Hermione knew to keep her voice soft, otherwise that grumpy librarian, who reminded her a lot of Madame Pince, would be round to tell her off. The hospital library wasn't very vast but it was comfortable and Annie spent most of her time in there.<p>

"Have you come to take me home?" Hermione's wide grin was answer enough. Her parents were filling out the forms with the hospital staff to take Annie home with them for the rest of the holidays. In truth Jean wanted to take her home indefinitely. With Hermione gone most of the time they didn't have to worry so much about having the space. Also it would give her someone else to care for while she didn't have her baby girl around.

"Are you all ready to go?"

"Yes. I just need to get my bag" Hermione giggled as she sat forward in the chair. Her thin grey hair was all over the place with one bit of her fringe sticking straight up, standing to attention; she looked a bit like an elderly cockatoo.

Annie had packed ready for Christmas the day before. She had been surprised at how little she was looking forward to going with her family. She had confided in her nurse, Madeline, who had told her that those feelings were completely normal. Annie wasn't so convinced; she felt as though she was betraying the Grangers somehow but spending time with them was becoming unbearable.

Unlike most of the other people she had met during her somewhat extended stay in hospital, Annie quite liked it there; the people were helpful and kind, she made friends and socialised more than she had since Harold had died, she didn't have to worry about the cooking or cleaning. Yes, she missed her independence but she hadn't had that in a long time anyway; Jean meant well but she could be overbearing. It was with real sadness that Annie realised it had become easier just not seeing her daughter and son-in-law.

She missed them. All the time she missed them but she could only take them in very small doses now. Hermione understood. She was so clever for her age and unlike her parents she was a pleasure to be around; Hermione never followed the example they set, watching the older woman like vultures waiting with bated breath for her to show signs of mental deterioration. Hermione just stayed the same. She was the girl and Annie could continue to be her grandmother. Hermione was a wonderful piece of normality as apposed to Jean. Jean was mother now, taking care of the feeble old woman that Annie had become.

Annie's granddaughter wasn't around to keep her sane anymore and she hated it.

After a few minutes of quiet walking back to her room the older woman rushed in and grabbed her travel bag from under the bed. She was determined that this holiday there would be an improvement. She would really put in the effort and set the boundaries. She would not be taken care of even if she had to hammer it into John and Jean. She didn't blame either of them. John was that way because Jean asked him to be vigilant and Jean was that way because it was written into her DNA. Looking up at Hermione the woman gave a sad smile. It was a family trait, caring too much. Chambers took care of people, healing was their nature but she would make it known to her Daughter that she was not a helpless infant.

While pulling on her coat the parents entered together sporting festive smiles; with a deep inhale it was time to go.

"Dinner is in the oven." Jean said ushering the rest of her small family out of the door into the busy corridor. She sounded slightly concerned as to how burned it would be on their return. The traffic getting to the hospital had been ridiculous.

"Then home James. And don't spare the horses." Hermione smiled, she didn't like the expression, she felt bad for James's horses but it was good to see that it was the same old Nanny Annie. John tried to take the elderly woman's bag as they walked down the hall towards the lift but she batted at his hands aggressively before swinging it over her shoulder and leading the way to the car. _Old battleaxe_ Jean thought with a gleeful twinkle in her dark brown eyes.

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><p>Albus held the beautifully wrapped present in his hand. Both witch and wizard were sat cross-legged beneath the tree watching each other open presents. It had finally come to where they could open the presents from each other and both were unashamedly excited. Minerva fidgeted, brushing loose pine needles off of the long skirt of her red tartan robes. She had just had her turn. Beside her sat a small pile of muggle board games; scrabble, guess who and mouse trap. She smiled, finding her animagus self was very drawn to the last game. Minerva looked forward to getting to actually playing all of them but right now she watched patiently for her friend to take his turn. He was looking down at his present with a gaze that could have been described as icy.<p>

Albus couldn't help the sinking feeling in his gut. This present looked awfully book shaped... And weighed just what a book might… and was book sized. Slowly he began breaking the paper along the edges. Though she would never admit it, the wizard knew the obscene amount of time Minerva put into wrapping her gifts perfectly, he wouldn't discount her efforts by massacring them.

_Darn!_ He breathed an inaudible sigh. It was a book! Minerva couldn't help but smirk at the tiny hint of disappointment on his face.

"The encyclopedia of tax assessment?" He quietly asked the witch beside him. 'Just what I've always wanted' Albus thought sarcastically. The wizard smiled, gently pushing the book to one side.

"You said that you wanted to learn more about Tax." Minerva beamed at him. Albus raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. He doubted very much that he had said that… ever.

"I don't think I did my dear but thank you all the same." He muttered. A change came over his companion; she sat back a fraction, a sombre expression covering her face.

"You don't like it." She whispered. Inside Minerva thanked whoever had given her the legendary Minerva McGonagall self control. It was taking every bit of effort she had to keep up this charade and not burst into laughter. As if this vibrant, eccentric old windbag would want to touch the encyclopedia of tax assessment with a barge pole... No, this was not a bog standard present but Albus Dumbledore would have to work that out for himself. Minerva looked down at the floor and gave a big, fake sniff.

"No! I didn't say I didn't like it Minerva. I just don't remember saying I wanted to lean more about Tax" He was looking horrified as his friend crossed her arms across her chest.

"You were talking to Aberforth and said you wanted to learn about Tax."

"No I…" he looked down at the floor trying to remember the conversation clearly. "Yacks! I said Yacks. Abaforth has just bought a Yack."

"Oh." Minerva's act faltered as she pictured her odd friend's strange brother carting a Yack around Hogsmead. Coughing to get back into character the witch frowned. "Well, if you don't want it I can take it back and…"

"No, I want it! Minerva it's a lovely present!"

"Good." Albus breathed out a sigh and looked down at the book that was causing him so much trouble. He wondered why his friend was acting so strangely about the whole thing, it was just a boring book after all. "Aren't you going to read the first page? I always read the first page just to ascertain the feel of a new book." Albus sighed. She did and in his opinion it was quite a bore when he was eager to open his next present and had to wait for her to read the first few pages of the book she had just received. That was the real reason he never bought the witch books anymore.

"No no, I will do that later, it is your turn dear." It's was now quite obvious by his expression that he was growing impatient with not only the book but Minerva as well. She wanted to laugh so badly that the insides of her stomach began to burn. Breathing slowly she frowned, the lines in her brow becoming far more prominent.

"Read the first page Albus." her tone was getting impatient too. It was stern, like she was warning him to cross her.

"No." He persisted not taking the hint. "I shall read it in my own time, I wouldn't want to bore you with the waiting."

"READ THE FIRST PAGE YOU OLD COOT!"

"FINE!" he picked up the most boring looking book he thought he had ever seen and opened the cover. There was an odd silence before the book in Albus' gnarled hands began to rumble. It shook so violently the wizard dropped it onto the floor between them. He looked up at Minerva who had a triumphant sparkle in her forest green eyes. There was a small ripping noise as the divide between the first page and the cover seemed to open into a dark hole, a deep chasm and from it's depths there was something rising up towards the surface. Albus' eyebrows travelled up his face in both anticipation and fear. Minerva sat, cool as a cucumber, pushing her gold rim glasses further up her pointed nose. She watched the spectacle unfolding comfortably from her seat on the carpet. A fountain of small round object clad in clear plastic wrappers burst up from the pages coming to a summit about two foot from the ground before falling back down to litter the floor. In moments a hefty pile of the things had formed and Albus was fighting with the book to close it.

"LEMON DROPS!" He shouted happily when he had finally managed to wrestle the book closed.

"Not so boring after all was it." Albus looked up at Minerva with a raised eyebrow.

"And that Minerva, is why i always say, never judge a book by it's cover." Minerva shook her head.

"So you like your present then?" The wizard couldn't answer as his mouth was already full; instead he nodded vigorously. "You better. You cant imagine how long it took me to get all those sweets in there. I think there is enough inside to last you a few months." Albus raised an eyebrow. He didn't doubt that she had put a lot of sweets within it's pages but part of him thought she underestimated the magnitude of his sweet addiction. Minerva laughed outright. "You would have enjoyed the look on Ambrosius' face when I asked to buy all the lemon drops he had coming in for the next month." By then Albus had swallowed and was unwrapping another couple.

"What did he say?"

"That he didn't see me as 'a lemon drop kinda gal.'" she said putting on the shop owners strong American accent. Albus laughed. It was true, the witch really did hate the things but she had come to accept them as a part of Albus Dumbledore. "Now, is it my turn?" Minerva said, gesturing to the remaining presents under the tree.

Once all the presents were open the pair sat together looking rather satisfied. Minerva was pleased with her small stack of boxes. After the games, she had been gifted with some new robes, some jewellery and a gift token for Dominoes Pizza. Albus had opened his remote control car and batteries and hadn't put them down since. He loved his muggle toys and she was more than pleased he liked it. The white haired man had not been quite so keen on the shaving kit she had gotten him but then that was his joke present for the year. Each year the pair got one another a joke present. Her's had been a set of dumbbells and an inflatable exorcise ball. The wizard had pulled a sad face when she magically inflated it, supposedly he had wanted to watch her struggle to blow it up. He soon forgot his disappointment when the big rubber ball hit him straight in the face.

For Albus, the day had been satisfying to say the least and it was about to get better. He spent the next few hours of his Christmas enjoying the sight of a small, grey tabby cat whizzing around in a hotwheels miniature monster truck.

* * *

><p>Hermione had opened all of her presents. She had received several vouchers, though most were for Waterstones, she had also gotten a few for clothes which was a nice change. She had opened the present from her Nan, the lion king video which was the last film they had seen together at the cinema before she went into hospital. Her parents had also told her she could pick out two things on their next trip to Diagon Alley and they would get them for her.<p>

But now it was her turn to present the gifts. Hermione had spent two weeks painting a dragon for her Nan during the summer holidays and at the time had still been unaware of their existence. Now she had seen a real one and read all about them she knew her interpretation to be very inaccurate. Though her Nan would never know, she did and Hermione found herself worrying about it. She needn't have; Nanny Annie loved it and said she would have it pined up in her room.

That made it her Mum's turn. Jean congratulated Hermione on her wrapping as she was passed the present. John chuckled as his wife turned on it and began aggressively tearing the paper away.

"Thank you love" She said, pulling the thick grey woollen scarf out of it's Christmas box. Jean had been expecting a book. Hermione had a wonderful taste in books and Jean couldn't help feeling a little bit of disappointment that she didn't have another one to add to her shelf of favourites.

"I got that on our last trip to the Ally" Jean looked up at Hermione before looking back at the woollen garment. She eyed the scarf as if it was about to blow up.

"Then it isn't a normal one then?" Annie looked from her daughter to son-in-law. The woman watched for a few confused seconds before returning her gaze to the misserable looking weather outside.

"Nope." Hermione shook her head, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth nervously.

John jumped up excitedly. "What does it do?" His wife reached out and pulled him back into a sitting position.

"What does it do Hermione?" Jean asked folding the scarf and laying it carefully on the floor a little away from her. Hermione frowned at her mothers reluctance to join in with the magical world.

"It changes depending on the temperature. When it's hot it turns into a cashmere scarf and the colour changes depending on the outfit your wearing."

"Oh darling, It's lovely" Her mother smiled now that she was reassured the scarf wasn't about to curse her.

"I'm excited now" John said, crawling forward towards the tree to pull the last of Hermione's presents out from under it. Hermione felt added pressure now. What If he didn't like it. She hoped he would considering she had spent more than she really wanted to on it, taking some money out of her first year allowance. Opening the paper her looked up at Hermione with the granger smile she had inherited.

* * *

><p>"What's this Albus?" She bent lower to get a better look. Beneath the tree hidden just behind the thick trunk was a small present waiting patiently for it's turn. Not caring to wait for his answer the usually elegant woman crawled under the lowest pined branches like an eager toddler reaching for the very last gift. Hooking her index finger into the loop of the white bow that completed the package's pretty blue decoration she wiggle backwards again.<p>

Albus tried not to laugh as he looked at the ceiling finding anything look at rather than Minerva's bum which was stuck up in the air quite unceremoniously. Now out from under the tree she sat back in her space opposite him cross-legged examining the gift. It had no names on it; no From…. or To…. She knew it was for her because she certainly didn't put it under the tree, unless Albus brought a gift for himself which would be a bit odd. Minerva also knew it was not from Albus unless he got someone else to wrap it which she doubted because though she felt his wrapping left much to be desired Albus fancied himself a star gift decorator.

She looked round at him, slightly confused by the look on his face but ignored it, waiting for him to explain the nature of this present. Now that he could see it properly he raised his eyebrows, surprised at himself for forgetting all about that particular gift.

"Ah, I meant to tell you about that one." Her emerald gaze travelled back to the box. She was intrigued now. "A pupil gave me that to give to you." The witch rolled her eyes.

"You know I leave presents from students at Hogwarts. I open them boxing day as always… so that I have time to either give them back or write a thank you note." Presents from students were tricky for Minerva. Unlike Filius and Pomona she didn't like to accept them. Birthday presents she gave back without question, graciously of course.

Lots of her more cunning students loved that about her. Parents often forced their children to get the teachers Christmas and Birthday presents. Minerva found that since she always gave the gifts back she always got the best ones. Lee Jordan had really taken the biscuit when he had gifted his transfiguration teacher with a Falmouth Falcons jersey with his name and quidditch number monogrammed onto it. She had seriously thought about keeping it just for his cheek.

"My dear, I believe that is part of the reason I was made postman. Miss Granger was quite eager for you to have it on Christmas day." Minerva eyed Albus for a few moments thinking. Generally muggle-born students didn't get their professors anything, especially in their first year. That was because their parents had not been taught at Hogwarts and so didn't badger them to get things for the professors that had also been a big part of their own school life.

"It's from Miss Granger?" she almost said Hermione; almost but not quite. Albus nodded reaching for one of the many lemon drops that had exploded onto the carpet earlier.

"Yes. Gave it to me the beginning of December for you." To the slightly confused witch it all seemed a bit long winded when the young Gryffindor could have just given it herself. There were plenty of opportunities; it was not like they didn't see each other every day.

"Why did she not just give it to me herself?" Albus sighed and began to shrug but stopped himself.

"I think she is still a little frightened of you." He tried to laugh it off but Minerva was not joining in. In the beginning of her career she had never wanted to be that teacher. The one that children crossed to the other side of the corridor to avoid and she had become just that. There was a fine line between respected and feared and she really hoped she hadn't crossed it but if she had, by how far? And how was she to get back again?

Minerva looked down sadly at the present in her lap. The pads of her fingers caressed the sharp, well folded edges of the light blue paper.

"I thought we had gotten past that." She muttered coldly, taking care not to look at Albus. She knew the look of silent understanding that would be waiting for her if she did. Instead she carefully slid her fingers under the sticky tape that bound the paper shut. It came away easily and soon the blue was gone. Pulling the lid off of the small black box she was left with Minerva was greeted with a little note written in Hermione's neat script.

Minerva read it quickly, a smile growing on her face but vanishing almost instantly. Slyly placing the card rectangle face down on the table so Albus couldn't read it and reached for the box again, moving on to what lay within. Minerva smiled. It was a little glass piano, so intricate in detail the witch thought it must have been crafted to be larger and had then been shrunken down. Placing it back down beside it's box she wiped her fingerprints of the cold transparent surface. It was so clean cut and perfect that she found herself looking at it for longer that she had anticipated. When Minerva turned back Albus was watching her, his face expressionless.

"What?" He raised his hands up so they were level with his head in a very muggle gesture.

"I didn't say anything." He muttered. Sighing, she picked up Hermione's present and walked across the the fireplace. With extreme care she placed it down on the mantle piece.

"Shall we eat something?" Minerva said, not waiting for Albus to follow her into the kitchen where Laina had left Christmas dinner ready for the pair of them. Itching his chin thoughtfully Dumbledore allowed his mind to wonder about the strange behavior of his friend. What it meant, why it was happening and what was to come of it. Clapping his large hands down on his knees the Hogwarts Headmaster jumped up and made his way into the kitchen, otherwise Min was sure to eat the feast in it's entirety.

* * *

><p>"Ready Hermione?" John asked, a proud smile lacing his features as Hermione sat at the piano stool waiting for her Nan to take a seat. Hermione nodded once reluctantly. She hadn't practiced at all and she knew her dad would know, he always knew. She had no doubt her fingers would be clumsy and oafish, catching the wrong keys and not quite hitting the correct rhythm. Hermione looked up at Annie who was making herself comfortable on the bean bag she had brought Jean for Christmas. The reassuring smile was enough to make her lift the piano lid.<p>

Hermione took a deep breath and froze. She hadn't practiced and her Professors were going to hear it… she felt her guts clench in fear. She was so stupid. Why couldn't she have given her teachers some gummy bears or something. With a loud sigh she looked to her dad.

"Could I get a drink please?" Nodding, John jumped up and headed for the kitchen.

"Tea anyone?" Hermione prayed for 'Yes's but 'No's came instead. Re-entering with a cup of blackcurrant squash John placed it down on the top of the cherry brown wood. He yelped as Jean hit him in the ribs.

"How many times do I have to tell you! COASTER!" Rolling his brown eyes he walked back into the kitchen and grabbed the square, lime coloured coaster. When he re-entered for the second time he exaggeratedly placed down the coaster, making sure his wife was watching before putting down the cup. After a few swigs Hermione could see her father becoming impatient; he fidgeted, resting his head on one hand for a short time before swapping.

"Come on love."

"Okay… but I haven't been able to practice very much." Jean, seeing her daughter feeling self-conscious once again elbowed her husband.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you will do fine."

Hermione nodded and opened the book in front of her to page 63 and took another calming breath. Hermione didn't know why she opened the book at all; she almost always played with her eyes clamped shut but it was comforting to know that it was there if she got lost. Sitting up tall and leaning forward slightly Hermione let her fingers hover over the correct keys. Simultaneously, her hands began to move, left index finger falling onto E while her right ring finger began it's independent movements at G. Everything was gone and Hermione was playing to the darkness under her eyelids.

* * *

><p>"Minerva!" Albus called from the lounge. The taller witch put down the box of After Eight chocolates she was eating to herself.<p>

"What?" she grunted back, trying hard to swallow what was in her mouth and hide the evidence before he came in to investigate.

"Your present is doing something!" Minerva raised her eyebrow.

"Which one?"

"Just get in here!" Hiding the emerald green box of chocolates at the back of the cupboard she made her way through to the front room where her best friend was sitting. He didn't look round to her as she entered. Instead he kept his gaze fixed on the mantle piece. Her step faltered as she made her way over. The little glass piano was different than it had been when she had opened it. Before the lid on the keys had been closed but now both professors could see the little glass keys beneath. Moving over to the sofa Minerva sat beside Albus. He had leaned forward, elbows rested on his knees and hands balled together into a perch for his chin. His crooked nose peaked over his knuckles and his blazing blue eyes watched intently. "What did it say in Miss Granger's note?" he whispered, eyes not daring to leave the little ornament.

"Erm.." The witch dithered, she didn't want to tell him; he would say she had gone soft, which she hadn't done! "From me to you, a piece of my Christmas." Albus nodded but didn't speak. For a few minutes they sat in silence waiting for something to happen. For a while there was nothing. The tension that had grown from waiting had begun to diffuse, both witch and wizard sitting back when the first note sounded. Music.

It was so light to begin with, delicate but powerful at the same time. Minerva joined Albus in sitting forward to listen closer. The tiny glass keys were moving of their own accord or so it seemed. Minerva couldn't help but smile as she remarked on how many of the miniscule rectangles were moving at once. They both watched and listened in awe as the melody continued, growing in not only volume but emotion. The smoothness of the movements, the fluidity of the tune was hypnotising and before the pair knew it the sound had stopped. Already missing the melody eyes fell back to the glass piano but were disappointed as the lid to the keys closed slowly making it well known that the recital was finished.

"Well, that was a wonderful present. Wasn't it Minerva?" The witch nodded, still silent. That was the most personal gift she had ever gotten from a student. It was personal and heart felt, something that most children tended to stay well clear of. Minerva wondered how much thought the young Gryffindor had put into this, where she had gotten it from and who had cast the charms on it. _Filius,_ she thought would have done it.

"Would you like some Chocolates?" Minerva said after a while. Albus could see that his friend didn't want to talk about this anymore.

"Would I?" He said with a winning smile. Minerva let her eyes linger on him for a moment before standing up to get them.

* * *

><p>-The Day After Boxing Day-<p>

Rolanda stared at the door. Her patience was wearing thin and so she knocked again, this time three times as hard.

"Severus! I know you want to look pretty for Minerva's party but Merlin! Move your caboose!"

She stepped back away from the door as her friend's heavy footsteps got louder. The door was pulled open and Snape stood in the entrance looking flustered. He was wearing robes as dark as the usual ones but these had an interesting silver embroidery on them and didn't look nearly so depressing.

"Alright!" He muttered resentfully. Rolanda presented him a huge, white smile.

"Got your dancing shoes on?" As she spoke she tapped her heel on the stone floor. Her scarlet shoes matched the dress she wore beneath her plain black travelling cloak.

"No!" Severus said chucking his arms in the air. "I couldn't find them… Bloody house elves." The flying instructor rolled her eyes; she knew it had nothing to do with the elves. Severus was just about the most messy person she had ever met in her life. She would have suggested he summoned the shoes but they were probably buried under piles of rubbish too heavy to shift.

"Come on." She extended her arm for the black haired wizard to take, which he did with some hesitation. The pair walked in uncomfortable silence to the staff room. To the witch and wizard's surprise they were the first to arrive. Hooch checked her pocket watch against the grandfather clock. Both read 9.00AM.

"Where is everyone?" Severus exclaimed dropping sulkily into Minerva's armchair. As if in answer to his question there was a thundering of feet and the tiny Filius Flitwick burst in wearing a black tux. Moments later his very red-faced wife walked in. Her faltered smile turned into an actual glare as it fell upon the little man.

"We didn't even have to run! Nobodies here yet!"

"Hello!" Severus said gesturing to himself and Rolanda. Pomona waved away his comment with her left hand.

"Yes, but you two are early birds…. You don't count."

"It's better to be safe than sorry love. Especially when we've been entrusted with Minerva's turner." Filius smiled at the other occupants of the room. After 10 minutes of discussing various people's Christmases the entire faculty left in the castle, including Filch and Mrs Norris stood in the staff room. He wore and battered brown suit that smelled of damp while Mrs Norris looked just as old and threatening, even with the new festive red collar.

"Okay, is everyone here?" Called Filius. Though he was little his voice carried over the crowd causing a hush to settle.

"Yes" the room chorused. He nodded pulling a gold chain from his pocket.

"Rolanda, some help if you please." The tall, short haired witch clacked over and took hold of one end. She walked away from him to the back of the room, the golden chain magically stretching to fit everyone within the circle. "Okay" the charms teacher said, stepping inside himself. He held the pendant before him using his stubby fingers to turn the inner golden circle which held a miniature hour glass. 12 times he turned it before spinning it hard.

The room began to move around it's occupants. After a few seconds of spinning everything stopped. The staffroom was the same apart from the dull sunlight steaming through the windows had been replaced by bright moonlight. "Everybody out." The professors who hadn't gone home, The Librarian and the grouchy caretaker helped pass the golden chair over their heads forward to Filius. Once it was un-stretched it fit back within his trouser pocket.

"What time is it?" Severus asked sitting back down in Minerva's armchair again. There would be a queue for the floo and he didn't mind being fashionable late.

"9.00PM" Sybill chimed squinting at the grandfather clock.

"It's Party Time!" Rolanda cried. She was already at the fireplace; reaching into the clay pot that sat on the mantle piece she shot a smile at the room before chucking it in. The lifeless fire roared a vibrant green. "McGonagall Manor" Rolanda stated clear as crystal before stepping in, holding up her skirts so they didn't drag on the coals. In less than a second she had vanishing with a puff of soot.

**Thanks for reading :D and i promise that this IS going somewhere. Im in the place where you know whats to come and you want to get writing it but... you have to get there first ¬¬ I reckon the rest on their first year at Hoggy is gonna fly by so we can get to second year :D Thats where the fun begins... for me :D not so much for hermione. **

**Anyways, Much Love. **


	10. Coming home

**Hello all, hope this update finds you well :D im not too shabby, life is busy as ever and i have a 40, 000 word essay due for tomorrow... i havnt done two words yet. Oh well, it'll be fine. It always is. Thank you for everyone that has reviewed so far :D i have tried to get back to you all, soz if i havnt. I realised i didnt let you know what song Hermione played on the piano at Christmas. for anyone interested I will leave the link at the end. I have also noticed an error in the timeline in an earlier chapter. I will sort that out and i doubt anyone would notice. I mentioned norbert when he hasnt even been born yet. Silly me :D anyway, thanks for continuing to read, for story alerting, for author alerting and for favouriting me and/or the story. Love you guys. Thanks to Imagen99 :D**

Minerva stopped dead when she heard talking from around the corner. Filius' squeaky voice was one she would recognise anywhere. From what he was saying she was sure he was talking to a student but the person had yet to speak for themselves, so she couldn't tell who. _'Strange' _Minerva thought; it was quite late for students to still be making their way back to the common rooms. The witch hoped that the conversation would end soon. She was more than tired and she needed to talk to Filius about that blasted stone.

"Oh and Miss Granger, Thank you for the wonderful Christmas present." Minerva shook her head. She should have guessed straight away which student it would be.

"Did you like it?" Hermione sounded unsure, seriously lacking faith in her present picking skills.

"It was wonderful and so very clever. Where did you get it? You couldn't possibly have done it yourself." There was a pause. Minerva thought perhaps Hermione didn't want to answer the question and so took this moment to turn the corner. Both student and teacher looked up and smiled at seeing the tall witch. "Professor McGonagall. What brings you here?"

"I need to have a word with you Professor Flitwick, regarding security." She emphasised the word Security and tried not to smile as she saw both Hermione's eyebrows travel up her forehead.

Filius nodded seemingly understanding before looking back to the young witch. A look of wonder and intrigue stayed on her face. Neither teacher knew of the connections being made in this bright 11 year olds brain.

'_The _Cerberu__s___, and what ever its guarding'_ Hermione thought excitedly.

Minerva found herself feeling slightly suspicious of the look in those youthful eyes. They reminded her of a group of four boys who were constantly getting into mischief; mischief they shouldn't have known anything about. It made her laugh how after all these years the marauders were never too far from her thoughts. At the same time her heart sank thinking of them.

"I'll get back to the common room then." She smiled at them both, fidgeting a little nervously. "Goodnight Professors" Turning, Hermione quickly made her way towards the end of the corridor a frown forming on her face when she saw Professor Binns floating down the adjoining hall. She wouldn't be listening in today.

"Goodnight Miss Granger" both teachers called after her.

Once the Gryffindor was out of sight Filius started to walk towards his quarters, Minerva in hot pursuit. It would not do to discuss the Philosophers stone freely in the halls of Hogwarts, a place where walls actually could talk.

* * *

><p>Hermione parked herself next to Harry, her eyes flitting to Ron who was sat opposite. The two boys were sat in the far corner of the common room playing an intense game of wizard's chess. The bushy haired girl grimaced as Ron's knight jumped from his horse and proceeded to punch one of Harry's pawns off of the board and onto the floor. Ron chuckled as the little figurine struck a victorious pose before clambering back onto his horse.<p>

"Hey Hermione." said Harry, trying to concentrate on anything but the terrible fate befalling his poor players. "We have so much to tell you about what happened over the holidays." He smiled a toothy grin at her. Hermione nodded before looking at Ron, assuming he would have something else to add. In her experience he usually did.

"Yeah, we found this crazy Mirror thing and it.." He was interrupted by Harry's foot making contact with his leg. Harry didn't know if their trip to the Mirror of Erised should have been a major secret or not but he did quite enjoyed having all these secrets with his two friends. Secrets that the other Gryffindor couldn't even dream of. Ron scowled at him and out of spite took his rook; the red-haired boy's queen showing absolutely no mercy.

"I got a really amazing present for Christmas." Leaning over he moved Hermione's loose brown hair aside to whisper in her ear. "I got an invisibility cloak."

Brown eyes looked at him in confusion as he pulled back. She had never even heard of an invisibility cloak. Seeing the look on her face, Ron leaned over the small table nearly knocking over some of his pieces, they waved their tiny fists at him before returning to the game.

Ron smirked; for once he knew something that Hermione top-of-the-class Granger didn't know.

"They're really rare. I'm not surprised you've never heard of them." None of the trio noticed the portly young wizard approaching from an armchair across the room.

"Never heard of what?" Hermione smiled at Neville. She had not had an opportunity to talk to him since they had returned from the Christmas break.

"A day when _someone_ doesn't come and stick his great big nose in." The red haired boy muttered bitterly. Harry gave him a warning look before turning in his chair to engage in conversation with Neville.

"How was your Christmas Neville?" The boy's shoulders slumped as if even thinking about the ordeal was already tiring him out.

"The usual." he said sombrely. "Except Nan's elf got elf-pox so she decided to cook Christmas dinner herself… Nearly burned the house down." despite her confusion about the sick elf Hermione gasped.

"Oh dear, was she alright?"

Neville smiled and nodded vigorously. "Yeah, she's fine. It was the most fun I had all Christmas." Hermione gave the boy an apologetic look. Neville had confided in her how mean his grandmother could be. Not intentionally of course but she did have a way of making the poor boy feel useless and unworthy of his heritage. The bushy haired Gryffindor had then tactfully tried to get Neville to talk about his parents. She had failed miserably. He was really good at weaseling his way out of her question and after a while Hermione got the message; he didn't want to talk to her about it. "Do you mind if I join you?" he asked reluctantly, eyes flickering to the red head who frequently made it clear he found Neville tiresome.

Ron shrugged and pulled out the chair next to him making Neville grin. Hermione shot Ron an appreciative smile. She knew how difficult it was to make friends if you didn't know how and Neville was just as bad at it as Hermione. At seeing her smile, Ron tried to hide his satisfaction at the approval he was getting from the only girl who talked to him regularly; which Harry noticed with a smirk.

After a few more games of chess, Ron dominating every game, Neville stood up and bid everyone goodnight. Watching after him as he made his way up the stairs to the boys dorm Hermione sat up a little straighter. She had almost forgotten what had taken place between the feast and entering the common room.

"Oh."

"Oh what?" Ron muttered packing away the chess board and placing it back under the table where he had found it.

"Before I got here I was talking to Professor Flitwick." The boys shared a look and rolled their eyes. Hermione chose to ignore it. "and while we were talking Professor McGonagall showed up." The witch looked around, checking that the few people left in the room were not listening. Then she checked beneath the table for a silver tabby cat with glowing, green eyes. Not finding one she leaned in to talk across the table. "She needed to talk to him so I had to leave."

"So!" She glared at Ron. Sometimes Hermione felt he was simply annoying for the sake of it but then we was a brother of seven; It was sort of understandable.

"So... I think she was talking to him about what the dog is hiding... She said it had to do with security." Harry's eyes had grown wide with excitement. He gripped hold of her arm as if he wanted to hug her. They had gotten no closer to discovering what was going on with the monster on the third floor. He had somewhat given up on it after not finding anything in the restricted section over christmas; Maybe this would be a lead to learning something new.

"What else did she say?"

"I dont know. They sent me away." He felt his excitement wain. Fine, maybe not a lead but they could look at this as motivation. Someone, other than themselves, had acknowledged that the dog was real... well, kind of. McGonagall might have been talking about something completely different. Harry breathed a long sigh.

"We wont give up. We'll get to the bottom of this." Hermione nodded enthusiastically while Ron's head bobbed slowly, the thought of reacquainting himself with the three headed dog not seeming quite so attractive to him. "Its the start of a new year and I've got a feeling this is going to be a good one." Standing, he stretched his tired muscles, arms reaching high above his head. "But now I think I'm going to bed. Coming Ron?" Ron didn't reply. Instead he stood up and followed the path Neville had taken. Both witch and wizard heard him mumble a 'Goodnight Mione' Before ascending.

Harry chuckled after his best friend before turning to the girl. He leaned over and gave a wobbly, one armed hug.

"Have a good sleep." with that he made his way after the youngest Weasley boy. Hermione looked around at the common room. There were a few stragglers left but all older than her. Though she wasn't tired in the slightest she reached out and grabbed the book she had gotten out from the library that day and made her way to bed.

* * *

><p>Hermione poked her head out from under the duvet to check that her peers were still asleep. Though she had cast a silencing charm around her bed before Christmas she hadn't tested it since returning. Seeing that her laughter hadn't woken any of them she dived back under the covers to continue with her book.<p>

Not long after that Hermione felt as though she was being watched, moments later she thought she heard the creak of the dormitory door.

That wasn't odd. The prefects checked the dorms almost every night so it was no surprise that they would be in on the first night of term. Slowly and quietly she switched off the torch her dad had given her and shuffled into a sleeping position; she feigned sleep, hoping whoever it was hadn't noticed her awake.

After a long period of silence Hermione let out a sigh of relief. Caroline Lynch would have come over straight away to tell her off and she had not, meaning she hadn't seen. Hermione had gotten off scott free. Pulling the covers down so that they no longer hid her face she looked around.

Nothing; not a sign that anyone had even entered. After a moment of thought Hermione considered it might have been Harry and Ron with the invisibility cloak but she reasoned that away. They wouldn't have been able to get up the stairs. Shrugging she looked straight ahead so to go back to her secret, late night reading. A silver and black tabby cat stood imperiously on the trunk at the end of her bed.

The young Gryffindor's eyes went wide and she couldn't help but gulp. Hermione shot a helpless look towards the clock on her bedside table. It read 2:13. Though she hadn't cared what the time was, she hadn't expected it to be that late.

"I'm sorry Professor. I couldn't sleep." She took this moment to slyly slip the book from beneath her covers to it's home under her pillow. The cat dismounted the trunk and padded forward. It sat at the foot of the bed, tail curling around her paws, head tilted to one side. Hermione answered the unasked question put forward by her teacher.

"I don't know. I feel a bit restless and... Maybe a little home sick… I can't wait for school to start when I'm at home but I miss it so much when I'm back." The cat nodded, it's impressive green eyes flitting about the dorm room. Trotting delicately to the edge of Hermione's bed, the cat sniffed the air a few times.

The witch internally groaned. She knew her teacher could feel the silencing charm. It wasn't against the rules to cast them but the girl could think of a great many reasons why it should have been.

"I cast it last term when I was having some nightmares." Hermione stopped there; she wasn't about to tell the woman of the three headed dog they featured. She also ignored the worried eyes that snapped back to examine her. "And according to Lavander sometimes I laugh in my sleep. I don't know what gives her the right to complain when most nights she snores like a beast." The cat coughed but Hermione had her suspicions that if the woman had actually been a woman she might have laughed. Feeling a bit more at ease the girl fidgeted in her bed to get more comfortable. Once the she was comfy she yawned theatrically.

"I'll try harder to sleep this time. Goodnight Professor." Hermione lay back, clamping her eyes tight shut and she waited. After a good quarter of an hour she peaked down over her chest to the end of her bed. The cat was still there, seemingly unimpressed by her badly acted rouse. Why was she not surprised?

Hermione sighed exasperatedly and threw her head back onto the pillow. Not being able to sleep was not an irregular occurrence and she knew for a fact there would be no sleep tonight. Was her teacher really going to sit there until morning? Surely she had better things to do.

Hermione felt the cat jump from the bed and heard the rustle of fabric as the animagus transfigured from her animal counterpart into a tall, thin woman with tightly wound black hair. In that moment Hermione felt herself tense. Her Professor was a lot less scary with fur and a tail.

The young witch was surprised when the bed dipped as her teacher sat on the edge of it, much the same as she had in her cat form.

Minerva wouldn't have sat on a students bed but she felt it would be better to talk to her charge within the boundaries of the silencing charm. When both green and hazel eyes met Hermione was even more surprised. McGonagall didn't seem angry at all. The Scottish woman was clad in her usual dark teaching robes, hair was pinned into the usual severe bun and though she looked stern, the same as she always did, she seemed understanding but that could have just been because she was tired.

"Nothing to be ashamed of in being homesick Miss Granger." The woman said softly giving Hermione the courage to keep eye contact. "I too get homesick on occasion." Two bushy brown eyebrows rose up in disbelief.

"Really?" McGonagall nodded. "What do you do?"

Minerva thought for a moment. "Well it is different for me Miss Granger." She paused, contemplating whether or not to tell the girl as it would not aid her directly. After a moment the woman decided it may help in the long term. If Miss Granger felt she could confide in her teacher she might feel a little better about being away from her family. "After a very trying day; teaching, marking or otherwise…" Her thoughts unconsciously flickered to a particularly trying evening in which she had spent hours cleaning up vomit in the Gryffindor common room because of a Weasey-twin prank that had gone catastrophically wrong. "…I wish I could just go home. Then I realise that I am. Hogwarts is and will continue to be my home for the foreseeable future. That's the way it's been for as long as I can remember."

Hermione held her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded slowly. This didn't really relate to her problem but it was nice to see Professor McGonagall's more human side. She knew that the woman had a hard time sharing and tended to stay far a way from anything personal.

Minerva watched curiously (it had always been in her nature) as her student slid her hand under her pillow and pulled out the book she had tried to conceal there earlier. Her small fingers traced the edge of the cover before passing it across the bed. Reaching into her robes Minerva pulled out her gold rimmed, rectangular reading glasses. Looking down, the witch could see it wasn't a book at all, it was a photo album. Silent communication passed between both witches; Minerva asked her charge for permission to look inside and Hermione granted it.

* * *

><p>She found it strange that the images didn't move; muggle photos were nice but it would have been nice to see more than just a snapshot.<p>

"My mum had got it out to put this years Christmas pictures in. I brought it with me without her knowing."

Minerva barely heard as she flipped through the beautiful photographs of Hermione with her family. The word Christmas stood out though. She was reminded of the present she had yet to thank the girl for, a present that still sat at the centre of her mantle piece.

"Miss Granger, thank you for my Christmas present. It was beautiful." Hermione looked up and blushed at the sincerity in her professor's face.

"You're welcome."

"Who is this?" Minerva could see the young woman was embarrassed and so changed the subject. She pointed to a photograph of the girl before her but much smaller, probably three or four years old, sat on the lap of a woman with short grey hair. The little Miss Granger was wearing a one piece pyjama suit with tiger ears, tail and stripes. They were both smiling; the older woman at the little girl in her lap, the girl at the camera, her eyes forced shut by the wideness of her smile.

"That's my Nana, on my mums side." Minerva nodded. She didn't ask anymore about it as she was well aware Mrs Granger's mother was in hospital at the moment. Hermione's mum had written by owl (with a postage stamp) informing Minerva that Hermione may be acting strangely and explaining the reasons. Flipping the page she turned onto the next, smiling as her eyes took in another picture of a young Hermione. This image was of a family setting. Some of the people she recognised, others she didn't. Handing the album back to Hermione she waited for her charge to explain the picture.

Hermione smiled in response, happy that her teacher was taking an interest, happy she could talk with someone about her family. The boys didn't seem interested at all and Hermione wasn't good enough friends to talk to the girls in her dorm about it.

* * *

><p>...<p>

* * *

><p>Minerva snorted at the face Hermione's Father was pulling. The pair had gotten half way though the book of photographs with the older witch asking questions and Hermione answering them. The woman let her fingers glide lightly over the image. Hermione looked no different from how she looked now, she was holding her father's hand as they walked side by side to somewhere.<p>

"Where were you going?" Minerva asked softly her eyes looking to Hermione who had gone quiet for the last few pictures. Where as before the girls eyes had been cast downward, happily reliving her memories for her teacher, they were now closed. Her breathing level as she slept soundly with her head ever so gently resting on the older woman's bony shoulder. The witch moved to look at the clock, the same way her charge had done earlier in the morning. 3:04. Closing the album she set it down on the bedside table. Moving her hand beneath Hermione's head she smoothly lowering it back to her pillow. Once Hermione was lying comfortably Minerva stood, her lower back aching some. Perching on the edge of the bed had not been the most comfortable position but she had tried to stay as professional as possible in the situation.

She held the covers, pulling them up so Hermione wouldn't be cold; then she replaced the photo album back in it's hiding place under the pillow. For a moment she lingered, not wanting to leave... to instead stay and protect this little girl whom had wormed her way into a heart that had been vacant for a long time. _Maybe a maternal feeling_ Minerva thought to herself but then, not ever having children of her own she wouldn't know. She hadn't ever felt quite like this before, except perhaps when Lilly Potter, then Evans, had come home from the summer holidays much sadder than she had left. After confiding in Minerva about the troubles at home, the transfiguration professor had forged a relationship with the young woman that had been different from what she had with other students. It had been a similar things to this but not exactly the same. Lilly hadn't been nearly as young and hadn't reminded Minerva of herself nearly as much.

Minerva reached down and brushed some unruly brown curls out of Hermione's face. "Goodnight Miss Granger"

"Good Morning Professor" Hermione replied in a tired whisper before burying her face in her pillow and slipping back into unconsciousness. Minerva chuckled at Hermione; ever impressive and still sharp even in her sleep.

With a sigh the witch was a cat again, padding back towards her chambers. She'd time turn back a few hours. It wouldn't do for the first lesson of term to be taught with her head on her desk.

**Thanks for reading, please review. I dont write just for reviews but they certainly are very nice, even if its just to say the story is lame, you like it, you want something put into the story or you dont think something ties in. And once again, if you dont agree with my music choice let me know what you think is more appropriate. I know this song because my cousin learned it for a concert at school. Its not your usual happy christmas music but it is a beautiful peice of music, one that i enjoy very much. http:/ .com/watch ?v=C9haTF oGcvk Lol, without spaces.**

**Much love all and hope to not leave you waiting too long for the next chapter. **


	11. Just Enough

**Hello all :D how are you guys? Sorry for the slow update but im off for the easter holidays so i should have plenty of time to write the next one in the 2-3 weeks we have left :) Thanks to everyone the reviewed and big YAYS for crossing the 100 reviews mark :') we were stuck on 99 for a few hours and i was like '...Come on... Come on... Come on!' and sure enough that email popped up in ma mail box like 'bored an' sleepy has comented on you story' and I was like YAAYYY! hahaha thanks to all the people who have alerted and favourited this story, you are all brilliant. And a final thank you to McGonagall's Bola who looked over this for me. **

**Ps, in case you weren't aware... I'm not JK Rowling... :( **

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Granger,_

_I do hope this letter finds you and the rest of your family well. I do not make the habit of writing letters to parents but I feel compelled to do so this once. Your daughter Hermione has confided in me that she removed a photo album from home without permission and feels exceptionally guilty not having asked to bring it here with her. I dare say your daughter would guard it with her life, though, as she has expressed that this album is particularly special to you. If you wish, I can have it sent back; though I do think it aids Hermione with her homesickness to have it close by._

_I have found quite touching, as I'm sure you yourself would, the devotion and love your daughter has for everyone there at home. It is clear to everyone here that your Hermione misses you, all of you, very much. I have informed her that I am writing you regarding the photo book._

_Kind regards_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Jean read the letter again. It had been months since she had received it... weeks since she had received anything. Hermione seemed too preoccupied at school to send letters home anymore. "_Hermione misses you." _Jean smiled at the words, feeling silly as new tears began to well up in her eyes. She wiped them away, not wanting them to obstruct her view of the comforting words or worse, fall and smudge them.

An internal battle had been raging inside her for days now. She desperately wanted to write Professor McGonagall, to check up on her little girl, to make sure her letters were getting to Hogwarts... but inside she knew she shouldn't. The letter in her hands had made it clear the woman was very busy, that she didn't have the time for unnecessary letters. Sighing she put the thick piece of paper back into the envelope it had arrived in and placed it back in the drawer of her bedside table. Hermione was most likely busy with school work just like she would be if she were at home; that girl was always busy with something. Jean had no doubt her daughter would get around to writing soon.

But how long was soon?

A stifled sob escaped from her chest, her tears not caring that she didn't want to cry again. Jean missed her baby so much. She just wanted to see her, to talk to her, to hug her... but while Hermione was at Hogwarts, Jean could only hope to hear from her, and it seemed her daughter wasn't playing ball.

Pulling back the covers and sliding into bed, Jean stretched across the whole expanse. John was away for the weekend; another reason why her emotions were everywhere. Rolling over the exhausted mother let the last of her tears fall before allowing herself to drift into sleep. She hated feeling this way; she had never wanted to be one of those clingy mothers that didn't let their children grow up... but her Hermione was only eleven, so surely she wasn't grown up yet! Surely Jean still had a few years of being needed left. It was with cold realisation that Jean accepted for the first time that things between herself and Hermione would not be the same, could not be the same.

But just because things were different didn't mean they were bad. The woman smiled in her sleep. Though she could not be the one to hold her close, to make her smile when she was down, to reassure her, Jean would be the proud smile, the invisible support, the loving place Hermione could always come home to.

* * *

><p>The sun burned high in the cloudless, pale blue sky. Most had vacated the castle, taking advantage of the weather and sunning themselves on the green. Hermione had no time for this. It was late April and the end of year exams were closing in. She had been sticking to her well thought out revision timetable for almost a month, and it seemed to be keeping her in good stead. She had yet to enter a class this month and find any learning material she did not already know. Still, Hermione couldn't help but feel she was unprepared; silly, considering that there was not another student in her year that had even started revising yet.<p>

Feeling that History of Magic had taken up enough of her time, the little Gryffindor closed the book and began hauling it –for the heavy leather-bound book was easily as big as Hermione's torso– back to the place she had got it from. She grunted as her thin arms struggled to lift it high enough to push into the empty slot it had left behind.

The book became suddenly weightless. Frowning, Hermione looked up at it to find two hands helping her. Once the book was in its place Madam Pince gave a small smile before disappearing back into the halls of books.

Hermione smiled after her. The woman had become a lot more friendly recently. It seemed once she knew Hermione wasn't going to lose or deface any of the books she borrowed, the woman was capable of showing a modicum of friendliness.

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts by hushed voices from around the corner. Walking back towards her seat, she strained her ears to pick up the low whispers.

"So we do it now?"

"No, we wait for Draco. That way it's three against one. Better odds, see."

"Oh." whom she assumed was Crabbe mumbled. "But she's a girl."

"Not this again!" Goyle said loudly, obviously forgetting he was trying to remain inconspicuous.

Hermione had heard enough. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a fraction of a second. Feeling slightly more collected, she moved silently around her table, sweeping the papers, quills and books that littered the surface into her bag. Not zipping up the bag, wanting to lessen the amount of unnecessary noise, she backed away from the pair of concealed bullies. Once she felt comfortable with the distance she had placed between herself and the Slytherins, she turned and bolted for the library door.

"No running in the library, Miss Granger!" Madam Pince barked, a slightly warmer tone entering the woman's voice. Hermione cursed Pince for her vigilance but knew that if she had not stumbled upon the boys, that vigilance would have been her rescue and so didn't dwell on the thin, birdlike woman's decision to abandon 'silence in the library' for that particular moment. Not looking back, she pulled open the doors and flew through them, not waiting for her pursuers.

A force from ahead of her propelled her sideways. As she fell into the stone wall, she realisedwith a small amount of amusement at the irony that she had run right into the person she was trying to avoid. Draco Malfoy's bony hands had planted flat on each of her shoulders and pushed with all the might they could muster. Hermione could see the surprise on his face growing into pride. The blond first year had never been muscular; in fact, he was quite the opposite. That was why he was usually accompanied by his two much larger cronies.

After a lifetime of doing nothing for himself Draco Malfoy had been left weedier than most. That was why he had been shocked at how far he had sent his peer flying. He didn't consider that Hermione had accidentally aided him with the force with which she'd run into him as well as the fact she was only a tiny thing.

"Watch where you're going, Granger!" There were no visible injuries that he could see but she was clearly shaken. Not waiting for a reply, he strutted happily past her and into the library to no doubt tell Crabbe and Goyle a shamelessly exaggerated version of the events that had just passed.

Hermione sat still on the floor for a few seconds, mentally checking herself over. She was fine except for a few grazes on her left leg and elbow. Pulling herself upright, she picked up her school bag and slung it over her shoulder, pleased that a few grazes were the full extent of her injuries. Madam Pomfrey could give her some cream to close them up, and she would be right as rain. Turning, she followed the corridor Malfoy had come down from before descending the stairs towards the hospital wing.

* * *

><p>"Madam Promfrey?" Minerva strode into the hospital wing. It was pretty much empty, one or two beds occupied by sleeping students. One was a Ravenclaw first year recuperating from an infected owl bite, the other a third year who had thought himself an amazing Beater. Not so amazing after all, she thought to herself. He had been too busy waving at Miss Keedle to even notice the Bludger until it made contact with the back of his head. Not seeing her friend, she walked towards the end of the room where the school matron's office was located. Long fingers closing around the handle, she let herself inside.<p>

Poppy looked up at her dearest friend, the expression on her face reading 'Will you ever knock?'. The apologetic smile on Minerva's face replied that, 'No, she never would.' Her smile vanished as she realised that Poppy was not alone this time. A girl sat on the wooden guest chair by the large oak desk.

"Miss Granger?" Minerva questioned. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione smiled up at her Head of House. "I fell over." she said lamely, hoping the woman wouldn't ask any more about it. The professor looked as though she was about to speak when Madam Pomfrey beat her to it.

"You need to be more careful, Miss Granger. I know you are growing and clumsiness is natural for someone of your age, but it would be nice to go a few days without seeing you." The matron smiled kindly as she took some white healing cream onto her gloved finger tip and began to smooth it over Hermione's uncovered elbow. "I'm beginning to think you like it here."

Hermione didn't allow herself to look up and see the suspicion brewing in the eyes of her teacher, instead she smiled along with the nurse's joke and waited for her to finish.

Once the bigger graze was completely closed, Hermione hopped up from the chair.

"Lunch is nearly done, Miss Granger, and I do believe you have Transfiguration next. Would you wait for me outside, please?" The woman made it quite clear that this wasn't a question, and so Hermione nodded obediently. Bidding goodbye to Madam Pomfrey, she moved and waited outside the office door for her teacher.

"How often is she in here, Poppy?"

The matron looked after the girl who had just left. "Once, maybe twice a week. Less frequent of late." There was a short silence.

"And do you really believe her clumsiness is the reason she frequents you so often?" There was a sharp tone in her voice that Poppy did not appreciate.

"Children fall, Minerva, that's what they do."

"Yes, particularly when aided by others." Minerva gave a long sigh. "It seems that things have not gotten better as I had hoped. Instead I have just been made oblivious." Poppy took a few steps forward and placed her hand lightly on the Deputy Headmistress' shoulder.

"You worry too much."

Minerva stared at Poppy for a long moment before letting herself smile. Perhaps the matron was right and she was worrying needlessly, but she would never tell Poppy that."On the contrary, I worry just enough." With that she turned to leave, readying herself for the journey back to her classroom. A journey through which she would have to bite her tongue.

* * *

><p>The trio of friends trudged together towards Hagrid's hut. They wanted to talk to him about what they had found concerning Nicolas Flamel, the Stone and to maybe trick him into revealing more. It seemed this method was getting them the furthest in their investigation so they may as well use it as a strategy. For a short while their knocks went unanswered. Harry looked at Hermione, who shrugged in response. Never had he not been there when they called before. Ron, missing the exchange completely, knocked again; his knuckles making a loud thud on the hollow wood.<p>

There was a crash from within. All three Gryffindors looked at each other startled before looking back at the door as heavy footsteps from inside got louder upon approaching. Pulling the door open, the gigantic, shaggy gamekeeper leaned out of the door to whisper, "Who's there?"

"Us!" Harry said, chucking the cloak from over his head but leaving the other two covered. "Can we come in? We need to talk to you."

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit preoccupied today. If you could come back another time, I have things to be getting on with." Before Hagrid could hurry back inside, Harry took a step forward and grabbed a fistful of Hagrid's thick, maroon shirt.

"We've worked it out!" Harry said triumphantly. To the scrunched up expression on Hagrid's face that clearly showed his tired confusion, Harry leaned in theatrically and whispered, "We know about the Philosopher's Stone."

"Oh..." There was a poignant pause before a long exhale. "Come in."

Hermione noted the change in temperature. Though it was summer, the nights were still cold and walking from that into the inferno that was Hagrid's hut made her skin prickle uncomfortably. "It's boiling in here, Hagrid. Why is it so hot?" she exclaimed still waiting for her skin to adjust. The half-giant didn't answer, instead moved to the window and peaked out to check no one was walking down from the castle. When he saw the coast was clear, he moved to the fireplace where a large black pot with a heavy lid was creaking under the extreme heat.

Ron moved to stand behind Hermione. "I knew his cooking was bad but Merlin... If he asks us to join him for supper, I'm leaving." The brunette giggled but covered it with a cough. Taking a thick pair of oven mits, Hagrid prepared himself to move the shaking cauldron.

"Move aside, please," he grumbled as he took the burned pot in his huge hands and carried it over to the table. All three children moved back as the Hagrid practically dropped the heavy, terracotta pot onto the thick, already scorched wood. With the danger seemingly over, Harry and Ron took a few steps forward; Hermione, however, fancied her chances better where she was, up against the side wall closest to the door. Lifting the lid, Hagrid tipped the bowl of the pot to allow what looked like a gigantic egg roll out. Hermione frowned

"Is that a gigantic egg?"

"That's a Dragon Egg." Ron shook his head at Hermione delighted at once again knowing something she didnt. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he realised exactly what he had just said. "That's a Dragon Egg! What are you doing with a Dragon Egg in your hut!"

"I won it." Hagrid smiled at Fang, who had been dozing on the ground keeper's bed until now but had decided to get up and see what all the commotion was about. He joined Hermione by the wall not wanting to approach whatever was creating thathorrible smell. The girl let her hand slide down to pet him on his huge head, and Fang's eyes drooped closed in appreciation. Hagrid looked a little disappointed that his dog did not wish to meet the newest member of their family but quickly perked up again as a high pitched creaking seemed to be coming from his prize."Off a stranger I met down the pub." Harry, who had stayed silent this whole time, dropped to the floor as a large, sharp shard of Dragon Egg hurtled in his direction.

**Thanks for reading, please review- i love to hear from you even if it's to say 'well this was lameness...' I think next chapter will be getting caught out of bed :O Angry Minerva! We all love it! hehehe, just want to notify everyone that after (some during but mostly after) the summer holidays this story is going to go a little AU.**

**Oh, and happy mothers day mummy :D **

Much Love :)


	12. Students out of Bed

****Hello all :) Thankyou to all that are still reading and thank you to Imagen99 for betaing this chapter for me. Ps, A section of Hagrid's dialogue came straight from the book. This is because I cannot write accents and why change what was perfect anyway :)****

****Much love!****

****(I'm not JK)****

****Chapter 12 - ****Students out of bed

It was a good job that Hermione had mastered the feather light charm earlier on in the school year. Otherwise herself and Harry would have been stuck trying to heave Norbert- and the crate that housed him- up to the top of the astronomy tower without the aid of their red-headed friend. Hermione sighed. She had to admit, doing things without Ron was different. Though he was one of the biggest annoyances she knew, he was the third member of their trio and her best friend. She certainly wouldn't be feeling this uneasy if he was here now with his childish humour and oafish tendencies.

Harry, her other best friend, smiled as Charlie Weasley and his comrades started to disappear into the distance.

He was pleased that the baby dragon was going to a place where he would be looked after. Not that Hagrid wouldn't love and care for Norbert as best he could- but a wooden hut wasn't the most practical place to raise the fire breathing creature as Hermione had astutely pointed out.

"We'd better be heading back." Hermione whispered, worry creeping back into her as the faint sound of footsteps could be heard from somewhere in the castle. She wondered which of Hogwart's many Professors would be patrolling tonight. Crossing her fingers that it wasn't a scary one, Hermione waited for Harry to respond.

He continued to watch the horizon for a moment longer before nodding. Hermione was rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm them and Harry sympathised wholeheartedly; the skin under his own sleeves felt frozen from the icy winds that blew that high and her jumper looked thinner than his. Now craving the warmth of Gryffindor common room, he hurriedly lead the way back to the door and stuck his head round it to check the coast was clear. When he found it was, he motioned for Hermione to follow.

"I wish we had your cloak." Hermione muttered bitterly. Since the crate hadn't fit under it Harry had elected to leave it behind in the dormitory.

"We made it this far without getting caught. Just the home stretch left so keep it together." He tried to sound confident but failed slightly as a noise from behind them made him jump. Hermione raised her eyebrow at her friend, noticing that he was just as jittery as she was underneath all of his bravado. They continued down the stone steps, both trying to ignore the feeling of foreboding that seemed to resonate off of Hogwart's ancient walls.

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><p>Meanwhile in the lower levels of the castle a tabby cat was frowning. Her pointed, feline ears could detect footsteps up ahead and unless she was mistaken there were no other members of staff on duty tonight. Moving into a trot Minerva turned the corner and followed the sound down towards the transfiguration corridor.<p>

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy cursed as the small, silver and black cat that he knew to be the Head of Gryffindor padded down the stone steps out into the courtyard. He was sure Professor Snape was supposed to be patrolling; that was who he had been wandering the corridors searching for. It looked as though his plan to rat out Potter and be praised for his efforts was foiled. With a defeated sigh he scratched his head. It would be pointless trying to remain concealed from that old battle axe. She would sniff him out in an instant and deduct enough house points to knock Slytherin to the bottom. No, he would not be the reason that Gryffindor won the house cup. Luckily, thinking under pressure was something that came quite easily to the spoiled Slytherin.<p>

After a moment of cramming Draco put his new plan into action. Stepping out from behind a pillar he jogged forward.

"Professor McGonagall!" he called, gulping as in moments she was pacing towards him in human form. "Oh Professor, I'm so glad I found you." Letting out a pant as though he had run hell-bent through the castle to find her he tried to explain himself. "There are two students that may be in great peril." Draco relaxed a little as the anger that had been so evident on her face lessened fractionally.

"Explain Mister Malfoy."

"Well," He began to explain how he had overheard two Gryffindors discussing how they were going to go to the astronomy tower after curfew, how-due to the late hour- he had believed most of the staff to be asleep and so he had come looking for the patrolling teacher, how he had gone to all of this trouble so that two of his fellow students wouldn't hurt themselves with their rule breaking. He smiled inside, not knowing how she could possibly punish him for the story he had just weaved. It was brilliant and if he was lucky he would still get to witness those stupid Gryffindors being punished.

* * *

><p>"Harry, did you hear that?" Hermione was getting more and more jumpy as the journey back to the Gryffindor common room commenced. "I don't think we should go that way. What if McGonagall's down there?"<p>

"Snape's on patrol tonight. It'll be alright, we're nearly there now." Harry let out a chuckle. "and I doubt that Professor McGonagall sleeps in the transfiguration department."

"No. She doesn't." Both Hermione and Harry spun around and looked straight up into the face of their head of house. Hermione thought she could cry. Even though Professor McGonagall was stood in front of them in a tartan dressing gown and slippers, the very tall witch had never looked so intimidating. "How dare you, the pair of you!" Moving to stand behind them she placed one hand on each of their shoulders and began to steer them towards her study. "I am very, VERY disappointed."

Once they had arrived McGonagall pushed them through the door. Harry had thought things couldn't get any worse but then his eyes had landed on the scrawny, blonde haired form of Malfoy. As much as he was glad that the low life Slytherin was going to be punished too, he would rather not spend all the hours of detention his teacher was about to give him with the boy.

While Harry stared at his nemesis McGonagall moved around her desk and sat down. Hermione thought perhaps with a desk between herself and her furious teacher she would feel slightly less threatened. She didn't.

"You were caught out of bed at one O'clock in the morning. Explain." Everyone was silent and Hermione's brown eyes didn't venture from her slippers. "I'm disgusted," Professor McGonagall sat back in her chair and looked over her glasses at the three students she had caught out of bed. "Such reckless and complete disregard for the rules will not be tolerated. I have not been this disappointed with any of my Gryffindors in a long time. What were you thinking?" Yet another question that went unanswered. "And you can wipe that smirk off of your face Mister Malfoy. Fifty points will be taken from each of you."

"One hundred points!" Harry gasped. "You can't.."

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. The three of you will also have detention. You will be notified of the time tomorrow. Now, Mr Filch," For the first time Hermione and Harry noticed that Filch was lurking in the doorway looking more pleased than they had ever seen him. "Would you please escort Mister Malfoy back to his common room." The man nodded, walking in and taking Malfoy by the ear. McGonagall pretended not to see, instead looking down her pointed nose at the two remaining student. "Right." she stood from her chair. "I will be taking you back to your dormitory. Mister Potter, I hope you are pleased with yourself. As for you Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. Obviously my faith in you has been misplaced. Now, out." McGonagall didn't utter another word the entire walk back to the Gryffindor common room.

Harry looked over at Hermione and felt his stomach clench as he saw the silent tears that she was trying to quickly wipe away. He felt so guilty. If he had only listened about avoiding the transfiguration department, if he had brought the cloak they wouldn't be in this mess, and Gryffindor wouldn't be last in the running for the house cup. He didn't know how this could get any worse.

* * *

><p>"The Forest! We can't go in there, it's against the rules!"<p>

"Weren't so fussed about rules when you were caught out of bed." Filch chimed. Harry and Hermione looked at Hagrid who was gatherings things to take on their excursion. The crossbow stood out for Hermione.

"I have to admit, this does seem very dangerous."

"You wait till my father hears about this."

"McGonagall decided your punishment so if you have a problem take it up with her. You've got them Hagrid?" The old caretaker asked gruffly. The half giant looked round to answer but the hunched man was already half way back to the castle. Shaking his head at the grumpy old man Hagrid stood to his full height and surveyed his three unlikely helpers. "Right then, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I'm going with you," said Malfoy quickly, looking at the crossbow held between the half giant's huge hands. Hagrid stared at the cowardly boy for a few seconds before turning to look at the other two offenders being punished tonight. Hermione had her arm wrapped tightly around Harry's and wore a look on her face that seemed to say_ 'You can try to prise me off but you won't succeed.' _Inwardly smiling, Hagrid's mind flitted to an image of what their wedding day might be like; he nodded in agreement with Malfoy.

"All right. So me and you'll go one way an' Harry, Hermione an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now - that's it - an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - so, be careful - let's go."

The closer the group came to the fork in the road, the slower Hermione allowed herself to walk. This was so dangerous and part of her couldn't believe that Professor McGonagall had really arranged this punishment. For someone so concerned for their safety, this wasn't like her. '_Unless she was so mad she wants you all dead' _a voice inside her head whispered.

"Oh god, she wants us dead!" Hermione whimpered.

"What?" Harry said, turning to her with a look of confusion plastered on his face.

"Nothing," She muttered. They had made it to the fork in the road now and though she was thankful for the scapegoat she wished that it had been a different one. Hagrid nodded encouragingly at Harry and Hermione.

"Fang knows where he's goin an' remember, yeh get in trouble- Red sparks." Harry gave a shaky smile and moved to follow Fang who was trotting down the track already. Luckily neither Harry, nor Hermione had seen the football sized spider he was after.

The small witch didn't have a choice but to move forward. Eventually the sound of Hagrid's massive footsteps and Malfoy's sour complaining hushed into silence. All that was left was the sounds of the forest. Sounds that made her jump at every turn. Fang had returned with a very odd looking stick in his mouth. She thought for a moment it looked quite like a spider's leg but realised she was really starting to get paranoid.

The dark wasn't at all threatening for Harry. He had spent the vast majority of his life locked inside a cupboard but even he had to admit that every time they moved into a patch of moonlight that shone through the trees, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in. For a long time they walked in silence, their eyes trained on the forest floor. This wasn't only because the floor was very uneven. Hermione was mostly watching the floor because she was scared to look up.

They moved into a clearing and for the first time since they separated from Hagrid, Hermione spotted more of the silvery substance. It was splashed across leaves and pooling on the muddy floor.

"Harry, I think we should go back. The unicorn went this way, which means whatever killed it went this way and I don't have a crossbow!" She moaned starting to hyperventilate. Harry was scared too but he knew Hermione was making herself more scared than she had to be. She was only making things worse for the pair of them.

"For goodness sake Hermione!" He turned on her but inwardly cringed at the terrified look she gave him. "I know you're scared, I am too but you're making me more nervous which means if something does happen then neither of us will be able to send up sparks because we'll be too panicked. You don't need a crossbow, we both have wands and you are the smartest witch, hell- the smartest person in our year. We'll be fine and when we leave this forest having saved the unicorn and apprehending the culprit we will be heroes and you will laugh at how absolutely over the top you're being." There was a long moment of silence. "Okay?" Harry asked timidly hoping he hadn't completely destroyed their friendship.

"I don't want to be a hero. I've never wanted to be a hero. I just want to be safe." Harry looked at her.

"The sooner we get this done, the sooner we will be in Gryffindor tower telling Ron about how horrible this was." Hermione reached into her cloak and pulled out her wand.

"Lets go." A small smile made its way onto her face and Harry replied with a grin. She forged ahead a bit... then realised she was still terrified so waited for Harry to catch up and take hold of her arm again.

They walked for what seemed like hours. The deeper the human pair and their four legged companion got into the forest, the more frequent the unicorn blood sightings became. It was spread across the ground, on the bows of trees and smeared on leaves. Hermione seemed to be getting less afraid. Her mind was more focused on the mystery of what was attacking the unicorn than what was happening at the moment. She was mentally flicking through the pages of 'Savage Beasts and their Whereabouts' by Anita Woodcroft and narrowing the creatures down to possibilities before trying to remember how to foil them.

Harry was the opposite. The further they got from the castle the more he felt his guts tightening. He was more jumpy than Hermione had been earlier but was trying hard to hide it from her.

Hermione stopped dead. It was such a sudden movement that Harry crashed right into the back of her. He apologised but she didn't reply, too busy staring through a gap in the trees at something. "Do you see that?" She barely breathed it but luckily Harry was so close to her that he caught the words.

Following the path her finger pointed out he squinted. Something was gleaming. Not the same as the silvery-blue blood they had been following; this was different. The most shining white either of them had ever seen. He nodded and after a loud gulp from the pair of them inched forward.

It took them awhile to get into the clearing. Fang was hanging back now which seemed curious to Hermione. Once again she started mentally checking this with the creatures she'd narrowed her list down to.

Once in the clearing they could see it was indeed the unicorn. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves. To his amazement its chest was still rising and falling as it took short and shallow breaths. "Its alive." he said pointlessly as Hermione could see it for herself. She seemed mesmerised by the poor creature. Without thinking she made to walk over to it but a sound in the thick of the trees made Harry reach out to pull her back.

There was the sound of something light dragging across the fallen leaves. At the other side of the clearing a small bush quivered. Expecting some random but violent animal to run from it Harry raised his wand. He felt rather than heard Hermione gasp as a hooded figure rose out of the darkness. It was almost a shadow itself and- next to the bright light of the unicorn- was hard to make out. Before either of the pair could say a word the thing swooped, unlike any living man or woman could do, upon the unicorn and began to devour what was left of its gleaming white neck.

Harry was transfixed by the sight but Hermione had already taken a step forward. "NOOOOOOOO!" she cried. She didn't know why her heart already seemed so attached to the wounded animals on the floor. It broke at every futile attempt the unicorn made to get up, to get away. Too weak to raise its head or kick out properly, it took only a few seconds for the majestic creature to give into its fate and lay still as if already dead.

At the young witch's cry the hooded figure raised its head, looking away from the feast before it and for all Harry knew, at a brand new thing to feast on. He let his eyes search for Fang and found that the great, bloody dog had already bolted leaving the two small Gryffindors alone. The beast had no face that they could see... apart from the luminescent mouth that shone brightly with unicorn blood.

Hermione didn't know what she felt when the hooded figure glided upward into a standing position. Part of her was actually relieved that they had inadvertently gotten the thing away from the unicorn. Maybe it could get away while she was being eaten; at least she would have died for something.

All intelligible thought left her head as Harry let out the most blood curdling scream she had ever heard. He dropped to his knees beside her and for the first time since seeing the advancing attacker Hermione remembered she had a very useful weapon in her hand. Her wand.

The first thing she did was send up red sparks._ 'Think think think'_ It was too late. Whatever the thing was, it was within meters now and Harry's screams were getting louder, his hands reaching up to cover his face. _'His scar' _she thought before a huge force sent her flying. The next thing she knew she was watching, dazed, from the foot of a huge oak tree as the hooded figure reached out for Harry. Her wand was nowhere to be found and so all she could do was shout for help. There was a crashing sound approaching.

The unmistakable sound of hooves came from behind her. _'Another unicorn?'_she thought to herself. Whatever it was, it galloped right past her and charged at Harry and the creature. The hooded figure was gone in an instant, easily outmatched by what Hermione knew to be a centaur.

Harry had stopped yelling. Pulling himself off of the ground he looked over at Hermione. She seemed to be alright but he wondered how she had gotten over there. He watched as she started to get up but turned to the huge man... horse that had saved his life.

"Are you alright?" said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet.

"Yes, thank you. What was that thing you saved us from?"

Hermione knew Harry to be safe and so instead made her way over to the unicorn. She kneeled down beside it, trying to think of some way she could help. At first it tried to move again, the same way it had done when the monster had started to drink from the gaping whole in its neck. After a second it stopped. The whites of its eyes were clearly visible and Hermione couldn't think of a time she had seen anything look so scared. Slowly she reached out her hand and made to stroke its nose. It let out a loud snort in protest but she continued and in the end dull, steely eyes closed, no longer wanting or needing to fight against her.

"You're going to be alright." Hermione nodded more to reassure herself. "Hagrid won't let you die. He's one of the most caring people I've ever met and he will take really good care of you." She edged a little closer to its head so she could stroke it more easily. To her surprise it moved as well; its muzzle coming to rest lightly on her thigh. "You'll be back with your family in no time and whatever it is that attacked you... and the other unicorn, the teachers will find it and stop it. You don't need to worry about that." She jumped out of her skin as the unicorn let out an ear shattering whinney.

She began to stroke its fur again, trying to soothe it but it only cried out louder. "Humans cannot keep unicorn. Nor can they care for them." A solemn voice whispered; not an ounce of authority was lost in the hushed tones. Hermione looked up at the centaur that had just saved Harry. He was extending a hand to pull her up but she didn't budge.

"We can't leave him here. He'll die."

"That is the way of the forest." the centaur replied, hand still outstretched to pull her up. Hermione still didn't take it. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Then why did you save Harry if that's the way of the forest." She noticed that her know-it-all tone had returned to her voice but she didn't care. She wasn't going to leave her unicorn here. _'It's not your unicorn' _she chided herself. The centaur let out a snort which somewhat resembled a laugh.

"That creature" He looked into the darkness where the hooded figure had vanished. "was not of the forest." She was about to argue that both Harry and the unicorn were attacked by the same creature which would make his argument completely invalid but he stopped her. "And neither are you. He has his carers and you are not one of them." The centaur pointed up to the treeline.

Hermione followed his gaze and saw nothing. "Look again." she sighed like a petulant child and did so. Between the thick of the trees there was a glimmer of light. Her head cocked to the side as more gleaming white seemed to appear but didn't come any closer. "They will not come for him until you are gone. Nervous creatures are the unicorns. For all their power they are still the most peaceful of beings. That is what makes them so vulnerable." She looked down at her lap where the injured unicorn had stopped calling. "It senses their presence."

She frowned at him. Wondering if he could read minds. "No, I can't." Her eyebrows raised up her forehead and she was about to demand how then he knew what she was thinking but he simply said "Humans are easily read, both by themselves and by others. Now, we must leave."

Hermione nodded, finally agreeing with the huge centaur. He seemed very mysterious but also incredibly intelligent. Leaning down she dropped a kiss on the flat of the unicorns head. Only then did Hermione allow herself to be pulled up making sure to gently slide the unicorn's head from her lap on onto the earth. The centaur was amused by the young human. She was special, much like the Potter boy.

"Right, lets get you back to Hagrid." Hermione squeaked loudly as she was picked up and placed gently on the centaur's back. He then trotted over and did the same to Harry who had stayed away from the unicorn, most likely by the centaur's instruction. Harry sat behind Hermione and instinctively wrapped his arms tightly around her middle.

"Hope you don't mind." She shook her head, secretly thinking that if he somehow pulled her off she was going to kill him. She didn't know what to hold on to herself but didn't have time to ask as the centaur picked up the three beat rhythm of canter almost instantly. To save herself she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, though she couldn't reach all the way around. "I've got your wand." Harry said into her back. "But I'll give it to you when we're back on the ground."

**Uh oh! filch is going to be in sooo much trouble when McG finds out what he did :O cant wait :D **

**Thanks for reading :D please review, let me know what you thought. Let me know what you think will happen, what you want to happen. Its nice to hear from you guys, to know if you're enjoying it. Equally if you aren't enjoying, let me know how I can improve it. **

**I dont know how close to cannon I'm going to keep this. so if you do want me to add something let me know. **

**Smiles!**


	13. Chasing Werewolves

**HI, I updated yesterday but a review from Alexsig (Thanks for reviewing! :D) quite rightly said it had been a long time since the last one. I felt a bit bad :( so i wrote this to hopefully make up for it. I realise there was not much development in the last chapter... and there isnt all that much in this one but i hope you enjoy non the less. :D Thank you for the reviews from yesterday, you guys are awesome and without you this chapter wouldn't be written yet... Shorter than normal but it's something right? **

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><p>Minerva's head tilted to the left having heard her own name spoken from up ahead. Obviously, working in a school with so many students and staff this was not a rarity but instinctively her ears pricked a little. It was the tone in which the person- a Ravenclaw student by the name of Cora Ashforth- had spoken her name that had given her cause for concern.<p>

Being in her cat form did often have its perks. Moving from class to class was abundantly quicker and students didn't pay quite so much attention to a small cat as they did an unusually tall and immoderately stern witch. Also, as a cat she did not feel as inclined to catch minor rulebreakers and dish out a suitable punishment; hence saving time and unnecessary hassle.

The downside to being a cat in a hallway full of people was being occasionally stood on and often hearing rumors about oneself that were far from flattering. Minerva always believed the pros to outweigh the cons. After all she was a big girl and rumors were not something she often paid much heed to.

As she got closer, the story being told by the young witch was passed on to yet another student. Stories at Hogwarts often spread like wildfire, the last to hear usually being told an elaborate and completely fabricated version of true events. It was something both teachers and the smarter students got used to.

"She must be a psychopath. That's the only explanation." This did make the tabby cat stop in its tracks. To what were they referring? Minerva couldn't help but smirk as she ran through her recent memories, trying to find something particularly psychopathic that she had done. Finding nothing she did something that she very rarely did. Minerva jumped up onto a nearby window ledge and ducked behind the grey, slate bricks so that she could listen into the conversation taking place just a few feet away. "Pansy was telling me exactly what happened this morning in Potions."

The tabby cat wondered how many people the story had gone through before it had come to Pansy Parkinson's knowledge.

"Draco told her everything as soon as he got back from his detention." Ah, Minerva thought. It was about the detention she had given Malfoy, Potter and Granger for their little escapade last week. Well, if she was a psychopath for making students write lines then Minerva would freely admit that she was one.

"What did she make him do?" There were two girls and a boy that were listening to this story now.

"So, Malfoy, Harry Potter..." Even though much of the school year had passed by, students that didn't know Harry very well still put emphasis on his name. He was still a celebrity to them. "And that smart girl with the big teeth." 'Granger?' one of the children interrupted and the girl nodded noncommittally as she really didn't care that much. "went to where they were told to meet, right?" She paused dramatically to make sure they were paying close attention.

"Where were they told to meet?" The Ravenclaw shot a glare at the boy who kept interrupting her and so began to focus her story more onto the other girls that were still listening. With a twitch of her whiskers the transfigured professor made to move on. This subject was beginning to bore her and she didn't particualarly wish to be discovered eavesdropping on some noisy first and second years.

"Filtch's office. Anyway, there was a note on the door saying the detention had been moved back and that they were to reconvene in the entrance hall at eleven." Minerva stopped and frowned... she had not organised this, nor had she been informed about the change of events. This was not the first time the school caretaker had shown a blatant disregard for her direct instructions. Irritation started to bring a slight sweat to her front paws as she listened more attentively than she had been before. _'How bad could it have been?'_ Minerva asked herself. The worry she now felt seemed to answer the unasked question. Filch could be a cruel man when given free rein with punishment- the main reason that he wasn't given it anymore. "So they go and Filch leads them outside to the Forbidden Forest where the groundskeeper is waiting with a crossbow."

A few of the surrounding students had moved in to listen now as the story was getting more interesting and loving the attention she was getting, the Ravenclaw continued.

"Filch left and Hagrid tells the three that they each have to go into the forest and catch a werewolf."

"You've got to be joking." A sandy haired boy towards the back of the small crowd piped up.

"Nope. Draco said he would have got one too, if he hadn't had to save Harry Potter from being killed by his own werewolf. Apparently Potter had been too busy crying with fear that he hadn't seen it coming. If it weren't for Draco... Potter would be dog food."

"Serves him right I'd say. If it weren't for him we'd still be in the race for the house cup."

Minerva had stopped listening. That story was certainly a load of poppycock but most stories that got around at Hogwarts were born from some sort of truth. She would have to get to the bottom of this and fast.

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><p>The first place that Minerva went to was the hospital wing. Though it was probably best for her to find Filch- her fists tightened at the mere thought of finding him- it was a big castle and the caretaker had no set schedule as to where he should be at a given time. Striding forcefully down the hall, as was normal for her character, she pushed the doors open and made her way inside. To her relief all the beds were empty. Weasley had been discharged two days prior.<p>

"Poppy?" Minerva called, not concerned to use the school matron's given name as there were no students present. As there was no reply the transfiguration mistress walked to the back of the wing and entered Poppy's office without knocking. The door swung open and the grey haired woman looked up from her desk.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Poppy said sarcastically, secretly very happy to see her friend. Minerva stepped in and sat down on the spare chair. Its presence meant that someone had been in the office that morning. A room of this size was far too small to include an unnecessary chair as a permanent feature.

"I am on a mission, Poppy." The nurse raised her eyebrows with amusement.

"You are always on a mission Minerva. We can all tell that much from the speed of your gait." A wry smile covered the younger witch's face for a moment before disappearing.

"Have either Misters Malfoy or Potter been in this morning?"  
>The matron shook her head. "Not in, so to speak. Potter was here earlier but only to accompany Miss Granger..."<p>

"Miss Granger was here?" A panic was starting to settle in the woman's chest. "Why? what was wrong with her? Is she alright?" Poppy would have said something about how rude it was to continually jump down someone's throat but didn't as she could see how genuinely worried the deputy headmistress was.

"I applied a healing balm and numbing gel to the bruises on her back. They were quite extensive. Not the usual type she comes in with." They sat in silence while Minerva processed the situation. She was distraught as Hermione had gotten hurt but she had to deal with this according to the proper protocols. All three students would have to make a statement as to what their detention had really consisted of, she would have to take Filch to Professor Dumbledore and then they would go from there. Anger flared up at the thought of Filch.

"Did Herm-Miss Granger say what the bruises were a result of?" Poppy shook her head. She had asked but the girl was very tight lipped when talking about her injuries; as was habitual. Poppy hadn't pushed as all injuries were catalogued and the bigger ones -as this one was- were sent to a senior member of staff to be followed up. It looked as though Minerva was right on it.

"I had better get going." Nodding a goodbye to the older witch Minerva stood. "Oh' and you may want to say your goodbyes to Argus Filch."

"Why's that then?" Not that the matron cared, he was a horrid man but she was curious as to what was going on.

"I'm going to kill him." Minerva gave a smile that didn't reach her eyes before departing.

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><p>Knocking lightly on the door of Professor Quirrel's Defence against the Dark Arts classroom Minerva waited. After a few moments the tall but gangly professor in question came to the door.<p>

"Minerva?" he asked quietly, pulling the hatch to behind him. "What c-c-can I help you w-with?"

"I need to borrow three students from you class. Miss Granger and Misters Potter and Malfoy."

"Of course." The man nodded, his tightly wound turban not moving an inch. Minerva wondered if it was pinned by muggle or magical means as he re-entered his classroom. Moments later the three requested students stepped out of the room to join her in the corridor. They looked apprehensive which was completely understandable. Malfoy looked the most jittery though, probably due to his rumour spreading, which she would be having a stern word with him about.

Turning away from them Minerva began to walk. "If you would follow me please." She knew them all to be following and so did not look back. She found students were usually more forthcoming with the truth if they believed they were in trouble.

It didn't take long to get to her unoccupied Transfiguration classroom. The three first years followed her right up to the desk where she turned to face them.

"Would I be correct in saying that yesterday you attended the detention I assigned for your behaviour a week ago tomorrow?" None of them were particularly forthcoming but Harry was the one who finally spoke up.

"Partly this morning also but yes. Are we in more trouble?" He asked for himself and Hermione. He did not care why Malfoy was there.

"No Mister Potter. You are not in more trouble. What I would like is for you all to right a statement, in as much detail as you can manage, recording your detention yesterday."

"And this morning." Harry added under his breath. He knew he was being rude but he was honestly too tired to care and his friend been hurt making him more irritable than normal.

Minerva's emerald eyes fell on Harry for a long moment before moving on. She wouldn't have stood for such rudeness usually but until she knew the details of what had actually happened last night the strict and unyielding woman would give him the benefit of the doubt.

She moved around her large, dark oak desk and reached into one of the draws. From it, she removed three sheets of parchment and three quills.

"The parchment will elongate itself to fit your statement. You can have as long as it takes for you to write everything up. You will not need ink as the quill provides it for you. " Her eyes fell on Mister Malfoy and Minerva did not try to hide the fact that she was talking only to him. "Anything that you fabricate will change colour so there is absolutely no point in lying. I will know." A bolt of satisfaction ran through her as the little weasel gulped loudly. "Potter, if you would sit over there." She gestured to a desk at the far left of the classroom. "Mister Malfoy, over there." He moved to sit at a desk in the opposite direction.

Hermione stood looking a little helpless as she waited to be handed both her parchment and quill. "Miss Granger, I would like a word with you before you start. Follow me please." Hermione turned her head to look at Harry. He gave her a smile as reassurance that things would be okay. "Come along Miss Granger." The first year followed her Professor through a door at the back of the classroom that was covered by a ceiling to floor cavas. Professor McGonagall held it aside for Hermione to walk though.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading :D please review, its lovely to hear from you and you dont need to log in to do it. Next update should be soon :) Wonder how much defending of Filch Albus is going to have to do to stop him being murdered. Min's a little on the protective side... especially when it comes to her cubs (One cub in particular :D)<strong>.


	14. Lemon Drop?

Sorry for the wait. Thanks to everyone who has faved, followed and reviewed. I was going to post two chapters tonight but was advised to post it later. Hope you enjoy. JBB

Ps, I'm not JK and I don't own anything, apart from what I own... which is mine.**  
><strong>

**Chapter 14-** Lemon Drop?

Hermione stepped wearily through the portrait hole into the common room. She had expected it to be empty as lessons were still in session. On her way up from the transfiguration classroom, the halls had been full to bursting with the bustle of students moving between subjects. It had died down as her journey commenced, finally leaving the corridors free for her to walk alone.

Looking up, brown eyes fell on the unmistakable, scruffy, black hair of Harry Potter. He turned away from the book he was looking at as her footsteps got closer.

"That took ages! Where have you been?" Olive green eyes raised to her, and a wonky grin spread on his face. He was pleased to see her back in one piece._ 'One down.'_ He thought briefly of Ron, who was no doubt enjoying double potions on his own. Whether he would come back in one piece was another story.

"I had to tell her about what happened." Hermione muttered quietly as she flopped onto the sofa to Harry's right. He raised a thick eyebrow.

"And she couldn't just read your statement?" he asked with a skeptical expression.

"She could ask questions this way. I still had to make a statement but I could also give any specific information she needed." There was a long pause while the boy nodded.

"And did you provide this 'specific information'?" he said smartly and Hermione's mouth quirked into a familiar smile.

"You should have seen the look on her face when I told her what Filch said about '**her** setting this punishment and taking it up with **her** if we had a problem'. I thought she was going to blow a gasket." They laughed together for a few minutes, discussing the many things they had included in their statements to push the Hogwarts' caretaker under the nightbus.

The conversation moved on quickly to a more sombre subject and both students became very serious. "What did she say about that ?" Harry's head tilted to the side as he waited for Hermione to respond.

"She rushed over it a bit. Like she didn't want to worry me by going on about it... but I could tell she paying really close attention, so I gave as much information as I thought was useful."

Hermione had appreciated what her professor had tried to do when it came to discussing the figure in the forest. The woman had taken in every detail that her student had spoken; she had not brushed the story off as if it were nothing to fear, but she hadn't panicked or seemed caught off guard either. This reaction had showed Hermione something. That Professor McGonagall would sort this out and that there was no need to panic herself. It had made Hermione feel safe.

"You should have seen the focus on her face when I said it was a Witch or Wizard."

Harry sat up in his chair. After the detention both boy and girl had gone to bed exhausted and had not had time to really talk about the more dangerous part of the night. Apart from during morning charms, when they had to dispel the lies Ron had heard about his two best friends battling Gryffons in the forest.

"How do you know?"

"They had a wand. That's what they used to blow me back into the tree." Her hand subconsciously moved to touch her tender back. The room went quiet, neither student speaking. Hermione's perceptive eyes narrowed on Harry and he squirmed under her gaze. "Harry James Potter, what do you know that you're not telling?" The sheepish look on the boy's face was confirmation enough that he was more in the loop than she was. He cast a brief glance to the common room, ensuring nobody else was there. Harry leaned in to minimize the existing space between them.

"That centaur said something." Hermione nodded expectantly. She had thought a lot about that centaur in the hours following the detention. Her back had ached and she was still full of adrenaline from the incident, and so the land of nod had eluded her for some time. "Voldemort! Who else would slay something as pure as a unicorn to prolong their own life."

That was not what Hermione had been expecting.

"But..." she stopped herself, trying to compute the information she had just received. "you killed him, it can't be."

"I was a baby. Nobody really knows what happened and that's what unicorn blood does. The centaur said it could sustain those who are but an inch from life."_ 'Or something'_ he thought. He had tried to repeat the words exactly but had gotten lost. "My scar has never hurt that bad before, and that thing was so interested in me. I think it was Voldemort and he's here to take his revenge and kill me!"

"Don't be so melodramatic. I don't think he would risk getting caught at Hogwarts this vulnerable just to kill you." She noted the slightly deflated expression on Harry's face and smiled. "No offense."

"None taken." he muttered.

"But he might risk it for something that would sustain him better than the unicorn blood can; something that would make him strong again. Something like the Philosophers Stone." Harry looked up at his friend as if he'd never seen her before. She really was quite brilliant when she wanted to be.

"We need to stop him."

"Right." Hermione agreed, jumping up off her seat. "Let go and tell Professor McGonagall."

Harry's shoulders slumped. And the brilliance was gone.

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><p>Albus sat very straight in his chair. Minerva was his best friend, a brilliant, caring and more than capable witch... she was also a force to be reckoned with. A sigh escaped his lips as the aged wizard lifted his wand. A large, silver Phoenix burst from its tip. Once the apparition had fully materialised Albus addressed it with a grave but stern voice. "Tell Argus Filch he has been summoned to the Headmaster's office. I will expect him promptly at 3:30."<p>

"Why 3:30?" The witch stood on the other side of his ornate, mahogany desk asked agitatedly.

"Because, my Dear, I do not wish you both to be here at the same time. Nor for you to meet him in the corridor on his way up."

At this Minerva sank into the visitor chair, her rigid back remaining ramrod straight.

"As you can see from the statements," Her hands gestured absentmindedly to the two pieces of parchment on his desk. "They were put in terrible danger! It's a wonder that everybody is still in one piece."

"Where is Miss Granger's statement?"

"I spoke to her directly. She did write a statement also but you may find it more useful to watch the memory of our discussion. She was much more thorough than either of the boys." Albus would have smiled - his best friends fondness for the small witch was rather touching - but Minerva wore a look of outrage and worry. He also noted how uncomfortable the Scottish witch seemed and so kept quiet.

"Thank you Dear, I will watch your memory before speaking with Argus."

"I hope you mean to do more than just speak to him Albus. Speaking to that man doesn't work!" Albus looked up at his dearest friend, suddenly feeling a lot older than he had done this morning. Disputes among the staff usually sorted out themselves, but this was a recurring problem. Minerva and Filch butted heads on nearly everything and her strong dislike for him was only ever hidden for the sake of professionalism.

It was more than clear to the headmaster what his professor wanted; Filch gone, but it would not do for his friendship with Minerva to sway his decision as to how to proceed. "Perhaps..." Albus' mind began to puzzle out possible reasons for the caretakers actions but was interrupted forcefully.

"Don't you make excuses for him." Her eyes didn't lift from the slightly open cupboard she was staring at. Her tone was harsh but it was one Dumbledore was used to. If asked to describe Minerva, he would never have said cantankerous but that was what she was in this moment. "Not this time, not again."

"He may have misunderstood."

"Misunderstood?" At this, the steadily reddening woman did look up. "Misunderstood a classroom detention during the day for traipsing through the forbidden forest in the dark of night, unprotected? Oh yes, easy mistake to make!"

"It says here," His finger traces the dents in parchment cause by Harry's quill. "that Argus claimed you had set the detention."

Minerva's lips pinched and she spoke through gritted teeth. "And that if there was any problems to take it up with me. As if I would take such a disregard for the safety of my students. Really Albus, I think that it is irresponsible of you to keep him employed here."

"Now, Minerva..." The headmaster leaned forward with a warning tone.

"Actually, I don't see why this school needs a caretaker. What does he do that the House-Elves don't? Apart from complaining and ignoring authority? If you are going to hire dead weight you could at least have the sense to get someone who is polite and doesn't have a death wish for every student in the establishment!"

"Minerva,"

"His wages could be put to better use doing... I don't know, anything! He is the biggest, most unhygienic, waste of space and the fact that he is still employed here..."

"**Minerva!**" the woman stopped mid sentence, her mouth still slightly open. He did not speak to her like that often. She would shout and argue and complain but Albus was the voice of calm reasoning. It took a lot to anger him to the point of shouting. "Kindly understand that though I am your friend, who agrees with you wholeheartedly, I am also your employer. Stop speaking to me as if I am incompetent of the role and listen for a moment. I am duty bound as Headmaster of this school to see from all perspectives, not just yours, and it would be unjust for me to go on your opinion alone as to the motives of what Argus has done. I will defend him until I know all the facts, and you will respect that or leave my office!"

There was a long moment of complete silence while both witch and wizard stared at one another. It felt like minutes later before Minerva let herself take a breath. She slumped back against the chair in a much more relaxed pose.

"Feel better?" She asked, the corner of her mouth curling upwards into a slight smile.

"Not particularly. Yourself?"

"Actually yes. Fractionally."

There was another uncomfortable bout of silence. He looked into her eyes, feeling as if he could see the woman's soul. A deep, written sadness dwelled within that emerald green. "She got hurt, Albus." Though she didn't mean to insult him further, her tone became warning all the same. "And that is unacceptable." He thought better of speaking, knowing that she was not yet finished. "I apologise. I did not mean to give off the impression that I find you incompetent. Nor did I wish to anger you quite so much."

"I accept your apology." he smiled. Wishing to cheer her up, he opened his desk draw and held out the book she had gifted him that Christmas. "Lemon Drop?" Minerva shook her head, still looking troubled.

"Miss Granger believes whatever is in the forest is a witch or wizard. She saw a wand." Albus bridged his hands and leaned forward to rest his nose on them. His chiseled brow became a hard frown. "How would someone get in? You cannot simply enter the Hogwarts boundaries undetected. You would have felt it... I would have felt it for goodness sake."

"Living off the life force of a unicorn." Albus muttered to himself out loud, Minerva only privy to a very small segments of his thought processes.

"Who could do something like that?" Both knew the answer but Minerva was not going to be the first to say it. The mere thought of that... creature - for he was definitely no longer a man- out there in the forbidden forest was enough to bring bile up into the back of her throat. He Who Must not be Named was dead. Killed._ 'By a baby boy?'_ Reason told her it was more than possible that Harry Potter had not done what he was credited for; For killing the Dark Lord. "Albus. There must be a more appropriate place for it. I know that there is no safer place than Hogwarts but at what cost must it stay here? How safe is it for the children when dark forces are closing in to get it? The Philosophers Stone shouldn't be here and you know that as well as I."

"You are correct." He left a moment for her to interject but she did not, waiting for a conclusion to his statement. "It should not be here... but it must be safe."

"But so must the students. They must be safe and they won't be when whatever is in the forest doesn't find what it's looking for out there. What happens when it gets in?" She implored his to see reason, understanding full well that to admit defeat would also mean the death of two very dear friends but the Flamels had lived their life... years upon years of it. The children of Hogwarts had barely had a taste of what life had to offer them. How could he not see that?

"It wont get passed the defenses. It won't get the stone." Minerva was about to speak, to tell him that she didn't give a damn about that blasted stone, instead, she feared the students in her care, which he was putting in danger! However, she wasn't given an opportunity. "We will alert the Professors. Tell them that there is a threat within the grounds and so to remain vigilant. You and I cannot leave this castle at the same time... as for how it has gotten in," Minerva sat a little straighter. "For us not to have been made aware of it, it must have been granted entrance somehow, disguised or brought in with something else. I will speak to the House-Elves if you will speak to the teachers." She frowned. Though it was a fair deal as there was nearly five times as many House-Elves as there were staff at Hogwarts... how could the professors be under suspicion? All of them had lived and taught at Hogwarts for years. Snape was the newest employee but even he had been teaching there for almost a decade. It was possible someone had brought it in by mistake or been cursed into it, but Minerva had faith in all the staff that none would be that easily tricked... except maybe that stupid caretaker.

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><p>Ron stared up at the head table, his eyes focused on one teacher in particular. Quirrell had been staring at Hermione for the best part of dinner, and it seemed strange to the redhead that nobody, except him, had seemed to notice. He decided he should point this out to his friends. Maybe this was yet another clue on the strange but cool adventure they seemed to be partaking in.<p>

"Hermione..." As Ron spoke her name, his best friend stood up from her seat.

"I forgot my book. I need to go and get it." Ron and Harry frowned, first at Hermione and then at each other. Her face was vacant of expression and her tone seemed dumb compared to her usual, know-it-all self.

"Are you alright?" Harry looked at Ron as he spoke, both boys eyebrows knitting into frowns.

"Yes, but I forgot my book. I need to go and get it." With that, she turned and walked towards the exit. Harry watched after her for a moment before turning to Ron. He watched as the boy did his best meerkat impression, his blue eyes searching the hall for something, or someone.

"He's gone..." The youngest Weasley boy muttered. Pushing back from the table he stood up too. "Come on Harry."

"Don't tell me. You forgot your book and you need to go get it?"

"There's something going on, so are you coming or what?" Harry didn't need further encouragement and was up in a flash. Their steps were quick as they followed Hermione's path out of the door and into the Entrance Hall. As they walked, Ron explained the weird behaviour of Quirrell at the staff table and the pace of their walk quickened even more. Their young minds began to puzzle out all sorts of scenarios, each more silly than the last.

They were just discussing how Quirrell could be using mind control on Hermione when the witch in question turned the corner in front of them. They stopped dead... surprised to see her there looking her ordinary, bookish self.

"Got it." she smiled, holding up a battered copy of some book or other. Ron looked rather deflated. He had hoped to find her unwittingly taking part in some sort of conspiracy. Begrudging himself for getting excited he huffed out his agitation.

"We're missing dessert!" Turning on his heel, Ron began his trek back towards the Great Hall, and his dinner.

"Harry." Hermione laced her arm in his, as she caught up with him. Taking advantage of the steadily growing gap between them and Ronald, who was continuing to pace down the corridor, she tugged lightly. "I need to talk to you." Her grip increased ten fold, eyes watching suspiciously after the third member of their party.

"What about?" he asked, his tones still quiet from the earlier disappointment of not finding her brainwashed.

"Snape." Harry stopped to look at her. His eyes shone brightly, a new fire within them having been ignited. He assumed the frosty tone was due to their shared dislike for the man, though Hermione had never used it before when talking of the potions master. Maybe it was an indication of the things she had to share with them. His interest spiked immediately.

Meanwhile, an impatient Weasley had spun on his heels. He shot daggers at them with his expression. "Aren't you coming?" he very haughtily announced.

"Hermione needs to tell us something."

"Can't she just tell us in the hall?" he moaned like a spoiled child.

"No I can't." Hermione's jaw clenched in a way that Harry didn't recognise. Noticing olive green eyes on her back, Hermione's lips curled into a slight smile. "It's secret."

"But they're serving black forest gateau today and I haven't..."

"RON!" Both Harry and Hermione shouted simultaneously, shocking him and a third year who happened to be walking by.

A look of outrage covered his freckled features. "Fine!" he hissed darkly. "But know that I'm having extra tomorrow."

Harry silently pondered how the boy could possibly consume anymore than he already did. Ron seemed to hear the unspoken thought, as he answered. "I will find a way!"

Distracted, neither boy noticed the greyish tint to Hermione's eyes, nor the dark expression that covered her face as she watched her friend, Harry Potter - The boy who lived.**  
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><p>Thanks for reading. Please review.<p> 


	15. Through the trap door

**Chapter 15- Through the Trapdoor**

**Hello all :) Im so sorry this took so long. In my defense, I did get hit by a car, but i have been milking this excuse for all its worth over the last little while. And besides, the car didnt affect my ability to type... i just havnt really been in the mood. Im fine now though, all healed (and spoilt rotten by those around me who felt bad including mum, who got me a very nice new horsey :D) and hope to be updating you much more often. Thanks to Imagen99 for her beta'ing services :D. As always, hope you enjoy.  
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**If Jk had been hit by a fiat punto, you would have heard about it. I do not own these characters and make no money from this story :)  
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Minerva sat bolt upright. Not knowing exactly why she had awoken, the Transfiguration mistress reached to her bedside cabinet, retrieving first her glasses, then her wand. Perching the glasses on her pointed nose, she pulled back the covers and moved to get up when a cry from the sitting room made her jump. She had no time to react as Albus' silvery patronus swooped through the thick wood of her bedroom door. He called out again, beak stretching wide to express the urgency in his call.

Landing on the foot board of the bed, he opened his sharply pointed mouth and closed his eyes, getting ready to deliver a message. The apparition became completely stationary as a very familiar man's voice rang out from within it.

"Minerva, the stone is under attack. Voldemort is within the castle. Meet me at the trapdoor."

Before his words were even finished, Gryffindor's head of house was dressed; her wand still held tightly between her finger from the deed. Not waiting to see if there was anymore to the Headmaster's words, she was a grey tabby cat, quickly disappearing around the frame of her bedroom door.

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><p>Hermione tried desperately to breath but couldn't. Holding on to Ron's limp body, she attempted to heave him back onto the broom. The dark tendrils of defeat were coiling around her limbs, making everything more difficult. She had never been any good at flying, never mind trying to balance both herself and her unconscious best friend on the rickety broomstick. Even though his body weight was not an issue, a feather light charm already cast, his bulky frame was still hard to maneuver and she was getting more and more frustrated.<p>

They got only as far as the second chamber before they both clattered to the ground again. The floating keys paid them no heed, as they continued to flit aimlessly about the room.

Not bothering to brush herself off, Hermione quickly stood and pulled Ronald upwards by his collar. "Up." she said as authoritatively as she could to the defiant broom. It rocked mockingly. Kicking it so that it lay motionless beneath Ron's slightly raised body, she tried again.

"Up!" the girl squeaked, trying not to allow the tears that were threatening to fall do so. This time, the broom did not even reward her with a solitary twitch.

Dropping both Ron and herself to the ground, Hermione let out a sob. It was too hard; she couldn't do it. Even if she did get him up to the third floor, what was she supposed to do about Fluffy when she got there? Between holding Ron, steering a broom, and thinking of a charm to keep a Cerberus at bay... her hands would be pretty full.

Closing dark-brown eyes, the girl let her head lightly rest on Ron's shoulder. After everything — a year of high grades, intense study and a growing ego — she had failed when it really counted. She had let down her best friends, her school, her house, her teachers. Hermione felt stupid for even allowing herself to believe she was a true a Gryffindor, even if only for a moment. She could practically see the disappointed green eyes of her Head of House. Eyes that she had sought to make proud right from the off. Those eyes in her mind wavered, their deep colour changing from stern green to a very familiar pair of brown. They belonged to her mother. They were Jean's eyes.

Mrs Granger had always taken every opportunity possible to tell her daughter how proud she was of her, and that she always would be. Her Mum would be proud whatever happened, and Hermione knew that, but was that really good enough?

'_No._'

Hermione loved her mother more than she loved anyone else in the world. She would make her Mum proud, even if she died trying.

Blinking away tears of desperation, Hermione tried again. They needed to get out of here, to the hospital wing, to help. Success wasn't just paramount for Ron, who was no doubt suffering under whatever curse he'd been afflicted by, but Harry as well. The boy had survived a run in with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named once before, and that had been heralded a miracle; one which was still talked about today. This didn't leave his chances of doing it again all that large.

"Ron!" Hermione cried out in frustration. "You need to wake up! I need you to help me!" Taking another calming breath, Hermione raised her wand arm in the precise movement she had been taught and muttered the incantation. "Wingardium Leviosa." His body floated upwards and continued to hover as if waiting for instruction. Reaching down, Hermione's fingers wrapped around the hilt of the shabby, old broomstick. "You are going to listen to me or so help me God, I will throw you into the the common room fire without a hint of upset or remorse!" Mounting it quickly, she pushed up from the ground and held her breath, waiting for the broom to fall again. To her amazement, it remained still, seemingly obeying her. Keeping her wand hand out and trained on Ron, Hermione began to move forward at what Harry would label a snails pace, but to her it seemed very reasonable. She steered towards the devils snare, Ron's inanimate body floating closely behind.

They slowed to a halt beneath Professor Sprout's obstacle. From where she hovered, Hermione's view of the trapdoor high above was slowly being obstructed as the Devil's Snare regenerated itself. The hole in the plant's centre had shrunk by more than half since Ron had fallen through it. She could feel a slight guilt at the thought of once again, burning it's newly formed, baby creepers.

Telling herself to suck it up, the young Gryffindor sent one more glance towards her unconscious friend; the image quickly dismissing all feelings of guilt from her mind. Hermione allowed her levitation spell to disperse, Ron's body gently sinking to the stone ground. Letting a few seconds of silent concentration pass, the girl brandished her wand towards the convulsing mass of vines.

"Incendio!" Air rushed from her lungs at the heart wrenching sound that followed. Last time, Ron's scream had masked that of the plant, but this time she could clearly hear the pained squeal that seemed to resonate from every one of its mossy tentacles. Trying not to think about what she had just done too much, she got right back to business, her wand — no longer feeling like an independent object, but an extension of her arm — moved smoothly back to the youngest Weasley boy.

Once he was floating along behind the broomstick again, Hermione zoomed up through the breach she had just made in the second obstacle. The sudden forward motion of the broom made her squeak. The increase in its speed had not been intentional and Hermione's knuckles turned white as she did all she could to get a tighter grip.

'Stop! Stop! Stop!' She thought in an absolute panic. The ceiling was getting closer and closer as the broom sped upwards. It showed no sign of slowing.

Doing a spell she had never practiced, only seen fleetingly in one of her many spell books, she shouted "Bombarda!" Amazed that it actually worked — as she hadn't expected it to — Hermione shot towards the new door she had created in the ceiling. Unfortunately there was little time to be pleased over this small victory, as she was very aware that an angry, and now — due to the blast she had just created — very alert three headed dog was waiting just above the concrete. 'think... Think...' But she didn't have the time. They were there, at the newly formed trapdoor, dim light streaming through into the blackness that surrounded her, Ron and the Devil's Snare. Six beady, black eyes greeted them, and Hermione felt her own eyes shut as she waited for sharp, canine teeth to greet her also.

A loud yelp made her flinch.

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><p>The broom clattered to the ground, a cloud of dust rising to engulf the two children that followed. Hermione let out a wince as her hip struck the stone floor. She felt a muscle in her back pull as her left side tensed on impact. After mentally checking herself for injury, she looked over to her redheaded friend. Ron had continued much as he'd done since the start of their escape. He had landed heavily, silently and was once again, motionless. Sighing with relief, she reached out to take his hand, which lay palm up, not far out of reach.<p>

"Don't you worry, Ron. We're nearly there now." She was just about to start planning the next leg of their journey, when the sound of heavy footsteps made her breath catch. Hermione was just about to shout for help, when a familiar silhouette turned into the entrance to the third floor corridor, their body blocking what little candlelight remained in the grand stairwell. Hermione's brown eyes fell shut, taking a moments rest while allowing the bearded wizard to come to her, and the unconscious boy by her side. Albus Dumbledore looked so tall, taller than usual from where she sat on the floor. His eyes showed a deep concern as he bent down beside her, seemingly about to start an inspection of both student. Hermione's voice halted him.

"There was only enough potion left for one. Harry is still down there." He wasted no time.

"Professor McGonagall will be here momentarily, Miss Granger. I need you to tell her where I have gone and to take you two to the hospital wing. That is where I want her to wait unless I summon her." Hermione nodded once and the man was gone. His long legs covering the 3rd floor corridor as if it were nothing.

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><p>Hermione had always been quite small for her age, but she seemed even smaller perched uncomfortably on the edge of a large, white, hospital gurney. Madam Pomfrey was bent over Ronald, who lay motionless in his own bed. The sight made the little Gryffindor sick to her stomach, so she forced herself to look away. The whitewashed walls were such a contrast to the blackened ones they had just been encapsulated by. The hospital wing smelt clean and fresh. Not like the dark, mouldy part of the castle where Harry probably still was, fighting for the Stone... and possibly his life.<p>

The thought made her want to cry again.

Professor McGonagall was speaking, but Hermione had given up trying to listen a few minutes ago. Though she thought herself intelligent, she — a mere first year — could not even begin to understand the complexity in the magic her professor was talking. She had ascertained from an earlier conversation, that when the chess piece struck Ron's horse, he had been cursed. They were now working on breaking that curse.

It was then, that the doors to the infirmary burst open, Professor Dumbledore stepping into the lighted room, a lifeless looking Harry in his arms. The noise that erupted from Hermione's throat was unfamiliar to her. She had never made a sound like it before. It sat somewhere between a strangled cry and a low gasp, not high pitched but piercing, hurting her own eardrums if not anyone else's.

"He is more than alive, Miss Granger. Don't you worry. He's exhausted his magical reserves. He'll sleep this off in a few days." Hermione couldn't help but feel that the older wizard was sugar-coating it for her benefit... but she was sure he wouldn't sugar-coat the situation enough to label Harry alive when he wasn't, and so, relief flooded her system.

Instantly, Madame Pomfrey was barking orders at her boss and Harry was lowered into a hospital bed of his own, his body far too still for Hermione's liking. Guilt was her main emotion, being the only one of the three to have made it back conscious. She hoped that this night would be done soon, that her friends would be okay and all the trouble they were in would be forgotten. 'Big hopes' she mused. Sighing, she knew to count herself lucky. She was alive, and so were Harry and Ron. Wishing for an extra miracle, like not being expelled and shunned from the magical world for good, was perhaps, a little selfish.

As the earlier chaos settled comfortably into quiet, and the traces of panic had disappeared from the adults' voices, there was nothing left to do but wait. So far, the professors had taken little notice of her — her own injuries being very minor and a healing salve already been applied by Pomfrey — but now the bustle had died away. As much as she was happy that the boys were on their way to recovery, part of her wanted the professors occupied. The young Gryffindor could only anticipate the terrifying, unrestrained fury that was sure to be unleashed on her by Professor McGonagall. Hermione had long since given up trying to count the number of school rules she'd broken tonight, how many dangers she had knowingly walked into.

Hermione's throat tightened. As if her mind had been read from the woman's seat at the far end of the room, the clicking of Professor McGonagall's boots on the stone floor signified that she was fast approaching.

"Miss Granger." She couldn't bare to lift her eyes to meet her teacher's. "I need you to explain to me exactly what happened; just the same as you did about the detention. I understand this has only just happened, you are tired, and you are scared, but I need you to be thorough. You mustn't leave anything out. Are we clear?"

"Yes." Hermione heard the word and could only assume that she had been the one who said it. She certainly hadn't had the time to think about answering McGonagall. It had just happened, much the same as the new words she had started spouting.

"We came to you, to warn you that the Stone would be stolen. You didn't listen. Harry decided..." She stopped. It had not been just him and she wouldn't make it out that way either. "We decided that we had to do something or He-who-must-not-be-named would get it, would be strong again and would return. We already knew how to get past Fluffy. Hagrid had let it slip by accident. We fell onto the devil snare, which I had read about. By relaxing, me and Harry were dropped safely into the chamber below. Ron panicked and so I shot the plant with sunlight. He fell on his side, so you should probably check he's alright from the fall as well as the..." She gulped. Her best friend had been cursed. "Harry was able to use his skills at flying to catch the key. We identified it as it had already been used to open the door. It had a crippled wing and matched the lock. We went through into the chess room, where Ron bested the game but had to sacrifice the knight to win. The queen ran the horse through and... he fell into the rubble at the boards edge."

When Minerva had first seen Ronald, tucked up in Hermione's arms on the third floor, she had felt such guilt. She had known instantly that he had fallen to her obstacle, and could feel her own magical signature pulsing on his skin from feet away. The professors of Hogwarts hadn't been asked to create defenses against children... but for full grown intruders with malicious intents. The curse... Her curse, had been a nasty one.

"After finishing the chess match, me and Harry continued, where we found a table with a riddle and potions on it. I solved the riddle... Well, I really hope I solved the riddle because there wasn't enough potion left for us both to go, and so Harry drank it. He walked into the flames and that's the last I saw of him until you brought him back." Brown eyes sought out Professor Dumbledore, standing not too far away from her, listening as intently as he could under the circumstances. Madam Pomfrey had him passing her this and that, potion after potion in odd little vials. "Once he was gone, I ran to Ron and used the broomstick to get us back through the Devil's Snare and up to the third floor. I don't know what happened to fluffy, but he was immobilised when I opened my eyes. I certainly didn't cast a spell; just prayed not to be eaten. Professor Dumbledore came after we had landed in the corridor. You arrived shortly after." Minerva opened her mouth to speak. This really was an impressive tale. "Can I please say something in our defense."

There was a long pause while McGonagall thought about it. Minerva nodded. After the night this girl had had, she did deserve it. "Go ahead, Miss Granger."

"I don't see how the stone was 'Perfectly Well Protected' if three 11 year olds were able to break through your defenses." Minerva raised an eyebrow as the phrase she had spoken earlier was repeated to her. "If someone had just listened to us, none of this would have happened... so I don't think that you should expel me... us." she corrected quickly

Albus could do little to restrain the amusement on his face. Minerva however, did not seem as impressed.

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><p>. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .<p>

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><p>"Right." Professor McGonagall stood up wearily, her slender fingers reaching up to rub her tired eyes. Tonight had been a long one to say the least. "Miss Granger, I understand your want to stay, but neither boy will be waking tonight and you need to sleep."<p>

Hermione didn't have the strength to argue. Though yes, she did want to stay, to be there for her two best friends, the thought of warm, clean bed sheets was very appealing. The girl didn't respond verbally; instead she stood to join her teacher, sleepy gaze never leaving the tiled floor of the school infirmary. Minerva nodded — as if acknowledging the obedience shown — before turning back to Poppy. "You will keep me informed?"

The Hogwarts' matron gave the deputy headmistress a disapproving look. "Don't I always?" Without waiting for an answer to her question, Poppy turned her back on her friend, dismissing her, to return full attentions to Harry.

Minerva allowed her lips to purse before morphing it into a faint smile. Those boys would be well cared for; she had no doubt. However, it was now up to her to look after the last member of the trio, the least harmed of the group. Hermione stumbled slightly, tripping on her feet. Her exhaustion was more than evident, but at the same time, Minerva was not naive enough to think that sleep would come easily to the girl. After everything that had just happened, the adrenaline of an evening of fright and intense spell work was still coursing through the body.

It wasn't until Professor McGonagall ushered Hermione past the turnoff for Gryffindor common room, that Hermione even looked up from the ground. Curiosity was evident in her sleepy features. "Aren't I going back to the dormitory?"

Minerva let out a sharp laugh that sounded strangely like a bark, her feline animagus seemingly forgotten. "After all this, you expect me to trust you enough, to allow you to go back to your common room?" Her green eyes scanned Hermione's face for a moment. "Not a chance, Miss Granger. This way."

Hermione let out an audible sigh as she trudged up more and more stairs towards the peak of Gryffindor Tower. She now knew where they were headed. From speaking with Professor Flitwick, she knew that all teachers had a space of their own which was almost the size of the common rooms. While she had been in McGonagall's living room, she had not seen any more of the woman's personal living quarters. Flitwick had three spare rooms for when his grandchildren came to stay. She wondered who came to stay with McGonagall.

After they had covered a ridiculously large number of stairs, the pair reached a tall and ornately framed portrait of Godric Gryffindor — Hermione recognised him immediately from 'Hogwarts and its Founders'. It took the girl a moment to recover from the journey up. '_No wonder she's so thin._' Hermione thought to herself, still puffing.

"Godric." Professor McGonagall greeted him. He looked down at the smaller witch with a smirk.

"So this is one of the children who decided to take on the Dark Lord?" Hermione lowered her head slightly, expecting a scolding of some sort. "Certainly Gryffindor."

"Godric, if you could stop encouraging her and open up, please." Minerva hissed impatiently.

With one last look at the girl, the painting swung open, allowing the pair access to Minerva's sitting room.

It was just the same as Hermione remembered it.

"Sit down for a moment. I will get something to help you sleep." McGonagall gestured towards the plush, leather sofa, and so, without a note of hesitation, Hermione did as she was told. Brown eyes kept a firm contact on the carpet, as the emerald clad woman moved towards one of the four oak doors leading from the room. She entered through it, closing the passage behind her, leaving Hermione only guesses at where it led.

It didn't take long for her to return. In silence, she lowered herself to take a seat in a red armchair on the opposite side of the coffee table. The wood of the table was scarred and blackened. It looked slightly out of places in such a pristine dwelling. Hermione had noticed last time she was here, how orderly it was. All angles seemed perpendicular, all books seemed meticulously sorted into colour, size and genre. The room was mostly red or bronze; all of the furniture seemed old but sturdy and well cared for, apart from the table of course. Hermione thought the chamber seemed to resonate autumn. That was a lovely time of year; her favourite in fact.

"Miss Granger." Minerva waited for Hermione to look up, wanting to be sure she had the girl's full attention. "I am... angry beyond words." The witch thought she spied a tremor in the young girls jaw and it made her sigh. Hermione had cried enough for tonight. More than enough. Softening her voice some, though keeping a sternness so not to lessen the impact of her words, Minerva continued. "I was terrified you know? You three terrified me... and I can only hope that you understand the severity of what you and your two friends have done. The fact that you remain intact is staggering, and though Misters Weasley and Potter were not as lucky, they are a damn site more alive than I would have expected." Despite her change in tone, fresh tears had begun to fall. "Please never scare me like that again, Hermione. I'm not sure how many heart attacks one witch is able to live through."

Sitting forward in her seat, Minerva reached to the table, scooping up the cup she had brought in from the kitchen. "Drink this and sleep should come more easily."

Hermione showed a moments hesitation. After all, one teacher had already tried to kill her friend tonight, but though she didn't 'know' Professor McGonagall like she knew Flitwick and Sprout, she definitely trusted her.

While Hermione gulped down the surprisingly tasty concoction, her teacher waved a long, mahogany wand, school robes transforming into comfy, flannel pyjamas.

Looking down at her new attire, the little witch finally found the courage to look Professor McGonagall in the face. "Thank you."

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><p>Despite what McGonagall had said, sleep was not coming as easily as Hermione had hoped. She had sat awake for a good twenty-five minutes. It seemed as if she was too tired to sleep, too exhausted to drift off. There was also the fact that she was afraid of what her dreams would house tonight. Several times she had wanted to get up and turn on the light... but she didn't even know where it was. Professor McGonagall had confiscated her wand for obvious reasons, but that meant no magical light either. Feeling she had wasted enough time sitting up in bed, staring at the door, she pushed back the powder blue covers and slid out of bed. Tiptoeing to the bedroom door, Hermione inhaled deeply, a mixture of fear and anticipations brewing in her stomach. Her fingers settled on the door handle, perching there for a few moments expecting something to happen. Nothing did. The handle creaked quietly under hand, as it turned in a motion far slower than one it was used to. Her breath was held tight as the door was pulled open slightly. A few inches worth of light was all she wanted, and was rewarded with exactly that. She hoped the professor wouldn't turn off all the lights before she drifted off.<p>

As Hermione turned to make her way back to bed, something stopped her. Creeping to the newly made crack in the door, she peered out into the living room. Nothing seemed amiss at first glance. Everything was in place, the way she had left it. It was only when her eyes dropped to the floor that she noticed the little guardsman at her door. The tabby cat was curled up snugly, her ears drooping slightly in her slumber.

"Wow." Hermione breathed. "My very own Cerberus." Thinking that the ground was no place for someone to sleep, and that she couldn't really get in any more trouble, she pulled the door open a bit wider. "Please don't cut my arms to ribbons." The whisper was barely audible, and the cat certainly didn't hear it. Drooped ears remained so, as small hands reached out to gently pick the tabby up.

Hermione's cargo was gently placed at the foot of the bed. The sleeping cat seemed grateful; snuggling deeper into the quilt covers, tail flicking twice before once again, curling round its fury body. Brown eyes watched for mere moments, only able to acknowledge how much safer she felt with McGonagall there, before Hermione was unconscious, a deep sleep taking hold of her.

Minerva's sleep however, was considerably lighter, for she woke a mere ten minutes later. The cat blinked twice, once not being enough to clear the blur from her eyes. Though she had not sleept long, it was enough to warrant a drawn out, feline stretch. Feeling a soft duvet beneath her paws, Minerva looked up, confusion lacing fury features. Her eyes quickly found Hermione, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully; her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, which Minerva found incredibly soothing. She lowered her head to her paws and watched on for a little longer. Images of the night just past were still running rampant inside her mind. She couldn't help but think that the evening could have had a very different ending. It made her sick to her stomach to even begin to contemplate how hurt her cubs could have ended up. Or worse.

Standing, the cat hopped from the edge of the four poster and headed towards her own room. Luckily, the night had not gone any worse, her Gryffindors were fine. She hoped to Merlin that the trio wouldn't make a habit of finding trouble wherever it lay dormant, because if anything was to happen to Hermione... to any of them, Minerva would never forgive herself.

'_Well._' she thought somberly. '_How much more danger is there to be found at Hogwarts?_'

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading :) hope you enjoyed.<strong>


	16. There's No Place Like Home

Okay... So I'm easing back into this. I wrote this chapter and the next over the last few weeks when I've had time, and I have to say... I'd forgotten how fun it was. This is a bit of a filler chapter, and the ones from now on will probably be shorter(this length... not like they were before :/ ) but I'm going to try and stay focused since I can no longer think of any excuses to put this off... i doubt i can top the car one anyway. Thank you to everyone who is still interested and still reading. I'm so sorry I'm rubbish. I can't apologise enough.

As always, Im not JK and all credit for the characters are hers.

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><p>Hermione smiled her goodbye to professor Flitwick, before turning to follow Harry back to the common room. It didn't feel like the year had finished. In fact it had flown by, and Hermione knew the moment she got home, it would hit her hard; how much she missed Hogwarts. At the same time, a nice long summer with her Mum and Dad sounded like the perfect remedy for a very eventful couple of weeks. She needed that calming presence that her Dad provided; and the warm hug her Mum would greet her with. Those thoughts had kept her captive the entire walk back, and she was surprised to find herself face to paint with the fat lady.<p>

The woman didn't even ask for a password. She looked teary eyed as a few seventh years bid her farewell for the last time.

On entry, the young witch saw that there were very few people left in the Gryffindor common room. The few who were there buzzed back and forth, making mental checks to be sure they hadn't forgotten anything. Neville, on the other hand, had chosen to dig out his rememberal. He sighed loudly and dropped the blasted thing on the ground as yet another plume of red smoke materialised. The boy began to make his way back upstairs for the eighth time in ten minutes.

On his way up, he passed by Professor McGonagall who was descending the boys staircase. Her dark hair was hidden beneath an impressive witches hat. She was also wearing a small, toothless smile that didn't normally grace her stern features. " They are in your bottom draw, Mr Longbottom."

Not knowing what he was supposed to be looking for, the young wizard grinned happily. "Thank you, Professor."

The tall witch waved her wand, extinguishing the common room fire.

Hermione made her way over to her teacher, mustering up some Gryffindor courage. Doing the only thing she thought appropriate _–_ the hug she had given Professor Sprout probably being too much _–_ she extended her hand for McGonagall to shake. "I will miss you." She waited through the moments hesitation exhibited by the tall which. Her long fingers enveloped Hermione's small hand as she firmly shook it.

"Likewise, Miss Granger. I wish you a wonderful holiday, and look forward to seeing you next year."

Hermione only smiled in response, as Harry practically flew down the stairs and took her arm. "Ron said he'd get us some seats together. See you next term, Professor." He smiled politely to the woman before pulling him best friend off towards the exit.

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><p>"What are you going to tell your parents, Hermione?" Ron asked, quite insensitively she thought. Harry ignored the question and continued to watch the castle that had become his home. He wanted a lasting memory to keep him till September; till he could see it for real again.<p>

"What?"

"Well, they can't have told our parents the whole story, or I would have got a letter, or a visit, or something from Mum telling me if I do anything dangerous again, not to bother coming home. I didn't, so..." He shrugged.

"I guess I'll just tell them the truth." Hermione was not at all accustomed to lying, and in her experience, it was far better to tell the truth and pay the consequences, than to lie, get caught and pay double.

"Are they really going to let you come back after they realise you could have died on several occasions, in many different ways? I know my Mum would be reluctant, and she isn't a muggle."

"What has being a muggle got to do with anything?!" Hermione shot a pointed look at Ronald, daring him to say anything remotely insulting. He gulped.

"Well, my Mum went to Hogwarts... knows how brilliant it is, and how good the teachers are and stuff. When you tell your parents, surely they'll just think its dangerous and the teachers aren't any good... and won't let you come back."

"They wouldn't do that. They trust my judgement." Hermione swallowed for a moment. She hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt. "And they can't just not let me come back... surely?" Her eyes moved to Harry, the question directed more at him than Ron.

"Don't bet on it." Ron continued, oblivious. "In first year, Fred and George pulled prank that backfired. This kid was stuck to the ceiling for 5 hours. He wrote home and his parents pulled him out. Wouldn't let him come back. He was a Muggle-Born." His tone seemed rather arrogant to Hermione, and the smug smile on his face showed he'd proved his point... at least to himself.

"That doesn't mean anything! Does it Harry?" Harry was still watching the station outside the window. The gentle tug of the train pulling away woke him up to the conversation. His eyes remained on Hagrid, McGonagall and Flitwick for a moment before moving to Hermione's slightly panic stricken face.

"Maybe Ron does have a point."

"What?!"

"You don't have to lie... just don't tell them everything." Harry's tone changed slightly as he dismissed the slight bitterness he held for not needing to worry about what he told his parents. They were dead. And even if his Aunt or Uncle did care enough to pay attention to him for more than a few seconds without shouting, the more danger he was put in, the happier they'd be. He smiled at Hermione, trying to put the thought from his mind. "I'm already missing Hogwarts and it wouldn't be the same without you there. Better to be safe than sorry."

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><p>Jean stood on the platform, her hand crushing John's as the scarlet Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. It felt like forever as the many children filed off of the train; Children that weren't hers. She searched the crowd for a glimpse of unruly, chestnut hair; listened for the voice she'd been longing to hear since Hermione had gone back to school in January.<p>

"Where is she?" Mrs Granger whispered out impatiently, cuing her husband to shake his head. He was anxious to see her too, but he hadn't seen Jean like this since... ever.

"Hold your horses, Love. I'm sure she'll be out in..." He saw a very familiar silhouette fill the doorway of one of the cars. "Speak of the dev..."

"Hermione!" Jean shouted, not remotely caring whether this was embarrassing behaviour on her part. Only when her daughters eyes connected with her own, and a beaming white smile greeted her, could she breath again. She could feel John's hand on her arm stilling her, for which she was grateful. Otherwise she would have been pushing though children and all sorts for a better glimpse of her _– _very grown up looking_ –_ baby.

"Mum!" Hermione squeaked as she was pulled into one of the most enthusiastic hugs she had ever partaken in. "I missed you both so much."

It wasn't long before her trunk was wheeled to the car park and with a lot of effort, squeezed into the boot of her mothers range rover. Lucky they had a big car. Mr Weasley had offered to shrink it, but Hermione had declined, not knowing how she would return it and its contents to their original size without her magic.

As they pulled out of Kings Cross car park, her parents talking seemed to subside and the car became mostly silent apart from the radio. It was so strange, being back to normal. Normal? She thought, her face pensive as an intelligent mind began to wander. Electricity, seeing people talking on the phone, even her father using a ballpoint pen to do his crossword while her mother drove the car; all things that she had not seen or used in months. It made her a little sad that she hadn't missed any of it in the slightest; hadn't thought once about it really. Of course she had missed her parents, their home, visiting her Gran but this world... the muggle world? she hadn't missed it at all.

_This isn't your world anymore._

The hard realisation came to her as she stared at the back of her parents heads. They were from a different world to her, and there would be things she would never be able to share with them, wouldn't be able to show or tell them, and though they would always love and need each other, her being a witch would be hard on her little family in more ways than she could understand right now. She wondered how her parents were when she was away. Though Hermione could imagine, she didn't really know. Her father looked at first glance okay, maybe a little tired but her mother looked thinner than usual. Looking at the reflection of her own brown eyes in the car window, Hermione questioned whether she could ever chose to give up her new found world of magic. Did the _'No'_ she knew was there make her selfish? Hermione glanced down at her feet. She had finally found a place outside of her house where she belonged. How could she give that up?

They left her case in the car when they got home. John said he would tackle it at some point, but not now. Hermione hurried up to her room, smiling as it looked exactly the same as she had left it. Next she hurried down to the dining room and gently pushed one of the keys on their piano.

Faithfully, a quiet note came out and she smiled affectionately at the tired old thing.

It was later that day when Hermione and her mother sat happily together in the living room. "Okay, I'm sitting comfortably." the youngest Granger beamed. All of her memories of bedtime stories started with her Mother asking whether she was sitting comfortably. It had been a kind of magic in itself. "Tell me everything!" Jean said with a smile, sitting down beside her daughter on the powder blue sofa.

Hermione's smile faltered a moment before returning, as she tried to cover a nervous gulp. The conversation on the train was brought back to her mind with full force. At the lack of response, her mother's eyes showed a slight disappointment but she held onto as much enthusiasm as she could. "I know I'm just a 'Muggle'" she joked "but I promise I'll try to keep up." The thought of hurting her mother's feelings spurred Hermione into speech. She spouted as many stories of Hogwarts as she could think of from the first term after Christmas, leaving out anything that took place after the year exams, bar the results of those exams of course. "I'm so proud of you sweetheart." Though they were talking about exam results, Hermione could feel that there was deeper sentiment in her Mother's words. "I really am."

"She's really missed you, Poppet." Hermione's eyes landed on her father who had been perching in the doorway for the latter part of the conversation. Looking back to Jean, confirmation shone in slightly watery eyes.

"I missed you so much." Hermione replied. "Both of you, I really did."

"Oh, we know you do, Darling. It's just..." Jean swallowed, before shaking her head. "As long as you're happy, and you're safe, we're happy too."

"I just wish you could come home and show us a bit of this wand work you've been learning." John's smiled brightly, trying to lower the emotions in the room a little. He loved his daughter, his family... more than anything. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione too feel guilty about being happy away from home. "Especially since the rules have changed now."

"What rules?"

"Well, who do you think has to do washing up on Wednesdays now you're gone?" Her dad looked across at his wife in mock agitation. "Have you magic folk got a spell for that one?"

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><p>Jean's head rose and fell with her husbands steady breathing. A little too steady for her liking. For the conversation she wanted to have, he needed to be at least a little awake.<p>

"John." she whispered. He grunted in response, making her smile into his chest. Before their daughter was born, he had been a nightmare to try and wake, but from the very first day she had been brought home from the hospital, he had been up and alert at the slightest sound. "Are you awake?" He gave an irritated sigh at the rather stupid question.

"I am now." He whispered back after taking a second to wake up a little more.

"I've been thinking..."

He shuffled, itching his back against the mattress. "About what?"

"Well, Hermione mostly.. and us, and magic..."

"Right..."

"Do you reckon we have magic genes? Or it was just a coincidence?" He laughed.

"I do like the thought of having magic genes. Why?"

"Well, I'm really quite curious about it... and there's only one way to really find out whether it was just by chance or not." She kept her head firmly where it was, not wanting to see his expression, just in case. After a long moment of silence she let out a breath.

"You want to have another baby?"

Feeling the need to defend herself, Jean moved off of her husband and into a sitting position. "This isn't just because Hermione is away from home now, I'm not trying to replace her. Honestly, I'm not. I just think it would be lovely, and I've always wanted to have more, but then with everything that happened, and then it was never the time... and I'm thirty three now, which isn't that old but you never know. I remember how happy we were when she was born... not that we aren't happy now, I'm not saying that at all! I love you, and I love her and... " fast pace babbling was interrupted by a hand over her mouth.

"Stop talking." His hand only lowered when her expressive brown eyes met his, and she nodded.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, silently communicating things that neither of them really liked to talk about. Jean had been pregnant once since Hermione. The miscarriage had been heartbreaking for all involved but of course, his wife had suffered most from the disappointment and the sense of loss. He sometimes wondered how much of it Hermione could remember. She had been so young, but even as a small child she had been incredibly adept at understanding things. He thought their little girl had been the real reason Jean had been able to cope as well as she had. Hermione won't be here this time though. John bit back the thought. The Doctors had said there was very little chance of what happened happening again. Acting as if it was a possibility would only make things worse. Slowly, a smile covered his face. They were good parents, and Jean an incredible mother. If she was ready to try again, he would be there every step of the way.

"Alright."

"Alright what?" He couldn't have possibly thought about it that quickly, she frowned. Although, John had always been so 'gung ho' about everything. She was sure that was part of why they were a perfect match. Her, the great tactician while he was much more the instinctive decision maker.

"Alright." He clapped his hands together lightly bringing her from her thoughts. "Well we'd better get to it then." Jean squeaked as her husband grabbed her round the waist, pulling her out of her sitting position and back beneath their covers. He counted himself so lucky; to have such a gifted and good natured little girl, and a beautiful and kind-hearted wife, who after almost 15 years, he was still madly in love with.

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><p>Thanks for reading and I hope to post the next chapter in a week or so, and with that shall come the arrival of an unexpected character. Hold me to this deadline. Its written in my diary :) hope you enjoyed, please leave a review if you did... you can still leave one if you didn't. Love to hear from you guys. Oh and let me know of any mistakes... since its been almost a year I was embarrassed to message my Beta. she deserves better... someone who updates with a semblance of regularity. Let me know of mistakes and I will endeavour to fix them :)<p>

Much love.


	17. Of all the Trees

**Okay, so that worked out okay I thought! I'm going to aim for an update every two weeks but at least one a month if I cant manage that. Bit of a filler chapter here, but its necessary guys so be patient and you'll get the lovely HermioneMinerva bonding you all crave :) **

**Im not JKRowling. I dont own any of the characters and make no money from this. **

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><p>Having grown accustomed to the early morning bustle of the Great Hall, Hermione found herself sat in the living room waiting for someone else to wake up. Alas, the house was still quiet; she couldn't blame her parents, however... it was 8:30 on a Saturday and though she had the holiday off, they still had to work on the weekdays.<p>

Hopping up off the sofa, she stretched out her back before wandering over to the window. It was already bright out and the day looked to be shaping into a beautiful one. Hermione wondered if there would be anybody at the park yet. A nice read under her favourite cedar tree sounded like the perfect start to a day like this one.

Scribbling an explanation as to her whereabouts on a post-it note, the girl stuck it to the front door. Grabbing her book and an apple from the fruit bowl, Hermione made her way out into the sun.

It was only a few minutes walk to the reserve. Due to the time of year, everything was lush and green. There were a few younger children on the climbing frames and swings, while the older ones played ball games on the green or sat by the small river that flowed along one side. Squinting, she recognised one of the boys playing football. A boy from her previous school who lived two doors down from her.

Jake had been more than capable of pushing her down and taking her books the last time she had seen him. A year had passed since then, during which she could see he had grown a considerable amount. Looking down at herself she sighed; she'd barely grown any. With a frown of frustration, Hermione made a mental note to avoid the football players.

Heading for the less populated wooded area, she made towards the brook and then turned left, walking along its bank for a little way. The water wasn't deep; she had memories of paddling in it. A very vivid one of having to go in after her hat which the infamous Jake had snatched and thrown in. Curiously it had remained stationary in the water, regardless of the current which should have pulled it downstream. She smiled, her young self had thought perhaps she had a fairy godmother or some protector who had prevented her hat from being taken by the water, or even being wet when she pulled it out; it made her proud knowing it had been her own magic. She had protected herself that day… that was an achievement in itself. Never mind helping to prevent the darkest wizard in history from returning a few weeks back. Jake Walsh wouldn't have been able to do any of that… Jake Walsh would probably have just wet his pants and cried.

And with a little more spring in her step at the thought, Hermione continued to her favourite tree, the gryffindor in her partly wishing someone would start on her today.

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><p>Minerva groaned loudly.<p>

"Why do you insist on being so annoying?"

"It's almost noon, My Dear! If you're not careful you'll sleep the holiday through." His blue eyes sparkled brightly, knowing that was probably exactly what she wanted to do. Contrary to popular belief, Minerva was not a morning person by choice. Unfortunately it was a necessity of her job.

"I am a cat, Albus. Sleeping all day is in my nature... And after nine months of sleep deprivation, I fully intend on catching up on what I've missed." She seemed quite resigned in that fact, snuggling deeper into the folds of her duvet. "Who even let you in? Is nothing sacred anymore? Not simply my home, but my bedroom too."

"Laina let me in, and I've been waiting in the living room for close to two hours. Come on Min, I thought we could get some lunch together today, and I'd like to hear your thoughts on that article in Transfiguration Weekly." His twinkle sparked brighter, wondering whether she would take the bait he'd just dangled in front of her. He knew for a fact she thought it had been a load of poppycock.

"Find another relative." He struggled to decipher as it was mumbled into the pillow. She knew exactly what he was doing and refused to be played. There was nothing he could say to prize her from her pillow. Nothing at all.

"I don't have any other relatives." Except maybe that.

There was a long pause before Minerva looked up at him. The look on her face was one of complete irritation and the witch continued to frown at him as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

"You are despicable." It was very true. He didn't have any relatives that still recognised him as family. Aberforth had made it very clear those ties were cut and apart from him, Albus had nobody still living and it had been that way for a long, long time... How dare he guilt trip her like that. "I'm not even your real relative!" she waited to get into her bathroom before muttering "thank goodness." the corners of her mouth curling up slightly.

"I heard that."

Looking into the mirror, Minerva smiled. A big white smile that was only ever invoked by him and his nonsense. They both knew she considered him family and she was glad to have him. Tying her long black hair into a slightly different bun from the one she sported during term time, Minerva momentarily contemplated how lonely she might be if anything was to happen to him, for he was not the only one who had nobody left.

She stopped herself; there was no point. The tiny, childish part of her that still lived inside, the part that still called him Uncle Albus, was convinced that he would never die. Though in reality, adult Minerva knew death better than anyone should, she didn't want to contradict and secretly hoped it was true.

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><p>Hermione stopped dead. Sat at the roots of her tree was a boy. Though he was concealed slightly by the shadows, she was sure she recognised the silhouette. From what Hermione could see, the boy had dark skin and hair which was shaved short; he was dressed a little too finely for what you would expect considering his surroundings. He didn't hear her approach, instead he was preoccupied striping that bark from a long stick.<p>

It was only a few seconds however, that Hermione went unnoticed. It was then as two sets of brown eyes connected that she realised exactly who he was. She quickly cursed herself for the earlier wish that someone would start on her today. This was not what she had bargained for at all.

"What... are you doing here?" the young gryffindor blurted out before she could control herself. Blaize Zabini had never spoken a word to Hermione at school directly. He had always hung in the background and sniggered along with his classmates whenever they made a joke of her or anyone in Gryffindor. Standing, still staring in confusion, Blaize took a little while trying to figure out who she was. Suddenly, his thick eyebrows rose in unison almost to his hairline.

"Granger!?" She dismissed some of the disgust in his voice as the shock of seeing her. It probably was just disgust, but her explanation made her feel a little less self conscious. They stood in silence for a little bit, almost sizing one another up. "Apologies. I didn't realise you and your muggles owned the park." This time, only one eyebrow rose, and its intention was mocking.

"We don't." Hermione returned pointedly. "I just didn't know that Slytherins spent their holidays in Muggle parks."

He looked as if he was going to explain his presence for a moment, but instead he shook his head. He snorted as his eyes lowered to the book held loosely in her left hand. "Reading? Oh you do surprise me, Granger."

Not waiting for the slytherin to continue insulting her, Hermione turned and made her way back towards the river. She didn't know why he was there, but she hoped he would be gone soon.

"Of all the ruddy trees!"

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><p>It was the next day when Hermione returned to see if her tree roots were still occupied by their unwanted guest. This time she'd picked the evening, when the sun was just turning a darker red. Approaching cautiously, Hermione looked around the space. She sighed in relief to see it was empty. Sitting slowly into a groove in the bark Hermione was pretty sure she'd made herself, she relaxed, opening the pages of a second year charms textbook to the 4th chapter.<p>

"Magic." she breathed. "I've missed you."

It was about forty minutes later when a sound from above caught her attention. Looking up into the branches, she could see nothing. With a shrug, Hermione dismissed the cracking sound to a bird, or perhaps a squirrel.

There was a loud snap and a thick branch fell from above. "Watch it!" an irritatingly familiar voice called down. His dismount of the tree looked more like an accident than intentional but to his credit, he landed on his feet a few meters away from her.

"Have you been watching me all this time!?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Don't flatter yourself. I wasn't watching you. I was sitting here comfortably before you came and disturbed me with your infernal muttering and page turning."

"Well sorry to have disturbed you, though i think I have a little more right to be here since I've been reading beneath this tree for years before you came two days ago and decided you owned it."

His chest seemed to fill with hot air making him grow a few inches. "I'll have you know I've been coming here far longer than just a few days. I suspect longer than you and your books have been... so i'd shut it about your 'right' to sit here."

She wondered if this was true, her natural curiosity running off with her. To think, she had been sharing this space with a wizard this whole time and had never known or suspected a thing. She wanted to ask him so many questions, but looking up into his face and seeing what was akin to loathing there, she doubted he'd be open to having a nice chat with her.

"When exactly will you be leaving?"

He didn't answer, instead stormed past her, heading back towards the entrance to the reserve. She waited a little while before turning to look after him. By then he had disappeared. It was hardly a victory she thought, looking up at the sky it was probably time to go home anyway.

Tomorrow she would be here early enough to fight for what was hers. A little part of her was actually finding this quite fun, though she wouldn't admit it. Aside from the sparing they had shared so far, Zabini was hard evidence that the wizarding world, that Hogwarts was real, and that she was a witch... and that it hadn't all just been a wonderful dream.

Unfortunately, the morning didn't exactly go as she had planned. Yes, Hermione had gotten there first, but almost ten minutes after his arrival, they were still engaged in a heated argument. Hermione was about to finally lose her temper when Zabini raised his hands to silence her.

"For goodness sake. Are all muggles this uncivilised?"

That was it. What was left of her self control was gone and all she saw was red. "How dare you!?"

"It is a big space. Surely my presence isn't so displeasing to you that we cannot both sit in it."

"Well I suppose we could, if you aren't too put off, whatever it is you come here to do, by my infernal muttering and page turning... and if you would guarantee that I wouldn't be continually insulted as you keep tending to do?"

"... Well I can't promise that." She raised an eyebrow in an expression that McGonagall would have been proud of. "You don't understand! It's a privilege for you, I'm of an extremely impressive blood status... but you on the other hand..."

Hermione had already stood up and was making to leave. "Granger! You really can't take a joke can you."

"Oh, I can take a joke fine, but this isn't a joke! You're not joking... and I shan't listen to another moment of it."

"Fine." To her surprise, it sounded like a surrender more than anything.

Slowly turning back to look at him, Hermione frowned. "Fine what?"

"I'll stop. You have my word that I will... try my hardest not to insult you."

"The word of a Slytherin?" She smirked. What was that worth?

"And you are one to lecture me on the degradation of muggles? What goes for me should go for you too. You will not talk of my house that way."

For a moment, Hermione was speechless. That was not the same... Surely that wasn't that same? "That's different. Considering how you talk to us at school..."

"Give me an example." Once again, Hermione paused. Considering before these encounters in the woods she'd hardly heard the boy speak, she could think of none. "That's what I thought."

They stared at each other for a long time, neither one willing to submit and look away. Eventually Hermione gave in, walked over to her tree and sat back down. Opening her book, she dismissed Zabini completely. Harry and Ron would be getting strongly worded letters about this. She wished they were here now. They'd know what to do about this pesky slytherin and his space invading ways.

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><p><strong>AN-<strong>

**So, a new character joined us as I feel Blaize is a bit of a forgotten character sometimes so I've adopted him into the story. I think there is a lot of interesting things he can help me with as we go on. **

**Thanks for reading, please review if you enjoyed, review if you didn't. They really are motive to write faster lol.**

**Much love. **


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